The Legion Man

He stands with pride
As well he might
Medals upon his chest
With memories of the fallen
Who now are laid to rest

The Legion Man
Does all he can
To make the world aware
To open their eyes, to realise
To take time out to care

Passers-by, try to miss his eye
They’re ever busy shoppers
Far too keen to leave the scene
Without giving a few spare coppers

Just a Poppy red
To remember the dead
As a mark of thought and respect
Is all he asks, a forlorn task
Or too much to expect ?

A tear begins to form
In the corner of an eye
A fleck of dust from a windy gust,
Or a deep set memory’s cry ?

It’s not about just the old and bold
From the dim and distant past
Our world can’t seem to find a peace
That is set to stay or last
Even now they answer the call
Sadly many in far lands fall
More names added to the Arboretum Wall

The Legion Man shakes his tin
Tries to be heard above the din
It’s just one day to mark the grave
Of the young, the old, the slain, the brave

He stands there for the sake of others
Grieving mums, fallen brothers
He stands for those who’ve gone before
He stands for those who stand no more
He stands for freedom, pride and faith
For those gone early to their grave.

Help him stand with great elan
Remembering Flanders to Afghanistan
Please dig deep, give what you can
Restore the faith of the Legion man

By Bill Clayton
©2017