Friday, 5 November 2010

In Memorium

Every Friday, Lily Childs launches a weekly prediction. Using the three words she selects at random, participants are invited to create prose or poetry up to a wordcount of 100.

This week, the word-prompts were:


Perhaps it was the noise of fireworks outside but the word 'percussion' conjured up a sense of gunfire and inspired my entry for this week's challenge, as we (in the UK) pause for thought for fallen heroes.



Admonished by those who thought themselves their betters.

Seeking a last breath of freedom from their squalid trench they rose,

Sacrificing themselves to shrill whistles and cries

And then the staccato percussion that charted their rapid demise as over the top they went,

Pouring like ants from a nest,

Seeing a new horizon, briefly, before lead and shrapnel marked their bodies,
In daubs of crimson.

Now, here, in fields to which only the valiant can belong,
Remain those daubs of poppy-red
Fluttering in the breeze.

Remembrances to the long-ago dead.


  1. Beautiful piece, Sue. Very well done indeed, young lady!!!

  2. Thankyou, kind sir! :-)

    (you will go far in life with compliments like that!)

  3. I was just thinking it's been a while since I saw any of your writing...!
    :) well done, I like! xxx

  4. Fantastic use of the words, Sue. You've got the sentiment perfectly in 100 words. Great job!

  5. Wow, that made me shiver Sue, brilliant!

  6. Sue, a beautiful and poignant reminder to us all for the debt that we owe our heroes.

    And that picture is wonderful too. You have a real talent there. Love it.

  7. Yes, I'm a little late to the moment. But very well done, indeed, Sue. Whenever I see a red poppy, I think: In Flanders field, the poppies grow between the crosses, row on row...

    Not sure if that's the actual line, but that's how I remember it.