Remember, Remember… by Susan Jarvis Bryant No thankful foot falls on the London street In honour of our brave and voiceless dead. Remembrance Sunday’s rendered incomplete Without the steadfast march and sombre tread Of those who know the bullet-ridden cost Borne in blood and bone in barbarous wars For liberty our land has almost lost To despots who have barred the people’s doors. They plot in history’s halls---the very walls That Guy Fawkes failed to fell with fury’s flame. The muzzled Queen observes their protocols With poppies at the tomb that bears no name. We’ll not forgive such brazen treachery. We’ll not forget the souls who set us free. Remembrance Day by Damian Robin We fight in many ways, some stay at home, apart, And wear no uniform except soft flesh. Some train, stand ready, are not called. They have their part. We have a single mind---keep freedom fresh. Some marshal paperwork, sort buildings, gear, and stocks, Supply from distance, metal parts and food. Some of us fight with just debate and ballot box, Risk argument turned treacherous and crude. But those who stood in bullets’ way, in sleepless trench, Or armoured strategies hard blown apart, May see their names carved, deep and clear, on garden bench, Or marble wall, or loved one's solid heart. Yet all of us must play our standing, righteous parts. For fragile Liberty has need of our true hearts.