Maitane Oakford's entry

We Among the Poppies Bloomed

By Maitane Rosamund Oakford

Far from home, we sons were sent, To the riven fields of Fromelles; Where poppies grew once,
Peaceful in the radiance of summer's past.

But fragile is the poppy,
Its youthful glow short living, As battle taints its soil in sin,
And metal tears its crimson glory.

We, the fated two thousand,
As did the poppies beneath our feet,
Felt the tempest of gunfire plant us, Within the dark embrace of earth below.

But in the barrage, there came a stillness; One that fused my heart, my mind.
Seconds became unending and the universe allowed for me - To pray in the company of angels, to my God eternal.

My heavenly Father, I said unto Him;
"With all this, I know that dusk is upon me, And as I am led, I shall go,
And your light shall guide me."

A prayer's tranquillity gave thoughts of kin and home; Love, laughter, a magpie's call.
Kissing games and cricket fields, Picnics under eucalypt shade.

But I am not alone, I do not fret,
I am a brother amongst brothers;
Who fought through that war, that dark, that death, For Freedom's toll is never sated.

We were loved, we are loved,
And eternity grants us the vision to see -
That to cherish us, is to remember the path we trod. Lest that path be chosen anew.

And as the poppies bloom once more,
Twixt Fromelles' white crosses, our place of rest. Our spirits remain uplifted,
By those who shan't forget.

- Dedicated to the memory of David Evan Frank Powell and all who fell in service of
Freedom.