Where Poppies Grow

Whistles on the wind,
Cries and laughter,
They reach my ears,
Through all the pain and fear.

The sounds of yesterday,
Now but a distant memory.

I dream of your voice,
Calling to me,
Your little half smile,
The light in your eyes.

The window to my future,
My saviour, my angel,
It is your hands I want to hold,
Your arms to hold me in the night.

But those days are long gone,
The fields of green are far behind,
Belonging to another me.

The war has changed us both,
And I will not return home,
I am lost to a war, far away.

Think of me,
As I will think of you,
Always.

We'll meet again,
One day,
In the fields where poppies grow.