Age does indeed wither the beautiful red rose.
But so proudly she stands until the bitter last.
Unlike the subjects of Laurence Binyon’s poem:
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For the Fallen…
Somehow, another year has flown by, and another Remembrance Day is upon us. I nearly lost my poppy again this year. It might just have been a time-between-purchase-and-loss record-breaker, had it not been for Ryan’s sharp eyes. 465 more words