What color is it? Blood-red or poppy?
Vermilion, cherry, apple or roses?
Gerbera-Daisy bled, or Scarlet?
Rust, copper, orange-red, red-wine or dead-red?
Is it the color of sin –a siren?
Or the shade of glory in battle?
Is it a Chinese wedding dress beaded,
Or cinnamon hearts on Valentine’s?
Is it love or fierce aggression? Anger?
Is it blood slipping down a soldier’s blade?
Blood of every fallen man, history’s —
Nameless sacrificed for freedom or,
To conquer land, or escape into the —
Red Sea parted, never turned back blue.
Red is memory, passion, delight, and —
Death that stains, with transgressions ink;
Indelible as a teacher’s x-marks.
Red’s Opium Dens, Jingle Jangle’s dread;
But, most I think of poppies that blow, grow,
On Vimmy Ridge, where our youth bled out, all —
These wars where soldiers died for peace.
It reigns, while tyrants burn, and hero’s sleep.
©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.