Frances Roberts Reilly Kitchener, ON. franceswrites@me.com
Red Red, the radiating leaf, the bright poppy glows, his burning bravery that accepts no defeat. Red, the blazoned leaf - a land strong and free. His arms, enfolding his love for our fine country. Red, the battle colours marched down the ranks, the piper’s swaying maple leaf kilt. Red, the ordinance flaming over the battlefield. The poppy-bruise on his battle-scarred face. Red, the trauma in blood and bone. The hot tears that open the heart. Red is the throat and the songbird’s song. The sun dipping onto the gloaming of his life. Red, for remembrance. The poppy flowers gravely clinging to stones. Red, the last crusader’s ageless cross, St. George’s cross of old. Red, the daring vision of our ancestors. The path of our First Nation’s people… Red, the fireworks celebrating our nation’s day. The kindling desire keeping freedom bright. Red, the pride that gladdens the heart. The true love for Canada, this land of ours. Red, the one leaf of the one people - Oh Canada A new dawn of a clear and bright day. The eternal flame burns.
47