I’d not forgotten his face
Or the sound of his voice
I’d not forgotten his smile
My heart gave me no choice
I would close my eyes
And count to ten
And have the crystal clear dream
I’d wake up from again
But I’m not asleep anymore
There’s warmth from the sun
And bad times are over
This war is now done
He’s coming home
After all this time
He’s coming home
At long last, he’s mine
It might take a while
To finally feel free
But he’s coming home soon
He’s coming home to me
After years of darkness
The light is shining through
After years of darkness
The sun is now in view
We will be together
When we were so alone
We will be together
Now you are coming home
After years of darkness
It’s looking brighter now
Let’s chase away the darkness
And make up the years somehow
Now there’s tears of joy
Instead of tears of sorrow
We have a new today
We have a new tomorrow
Now it is our time
Hope is on its way
After years of darkness
You are home to stay
The soldiers were courageous
But in battle they did yield
And John McCrea, he lost a friend
On Ypres fighting field
He wrote Flanders Fields for him
His soul he laid out bare
He wrote about the poppy fields
For every soldier there
The slender graceful poppy
Sprouted where they lay
So that we would think of them
Every Remembrance Day
They grew in their thousands
And proudly there they stand
This hardy little flower
Grows on barren land
American lady, Moira Michael
Made poppies of silk to sell
And Anna Guerin, brought them to England
And boy, did they sell well!
It was The Royal British Legion
Who sold nine million poppies on
Remembrance Day
Back in nineteen twenty one
Over one hundred thousand pounds
That first appeal did raise
Which helped the Great War veterans
In those very early days
The Legion, along with Major George
Houston’s factory line
To this day, produce nine million
poppies, every year combined.
Scotland wanted poppies too
But England’s were all gone
Lady Haig set a factory up
So Edinburgh had one
A story of a little flower
A symbol of life and not of death
Its beauty blooms to give us hope
And help us never to forget
‘Everybody needs a different climate in which to create, like for some people it’s the sun streaming through the blinds, or the Rocky Mountains, or a room sanitized for your own protection.’
LA Free Press 1975 Los Angelas Is Poetry from Tom Waits on Tom Waits. Interviews and Encounters, Edited by Paul Maher.
Food comes from the land
But also from above
Nourishment, goodies
Joy and love
Birds don’t work
And flowers don’t toil
Yet the birds, they still eat
And flowers bloom in soil
A harvest of hope
For those who have none
Whose troubles and woes
Are still far from gone
Through our heart and soul
We plant our seeds
We watch them wither or grow
Through all of our deeds
Let the abundance of crops
Be proudly on show
Now is the time
To reap what we sow
Things In My Head 