OCR Text |
Show HIS DECORATION By Gertrude West i Tha whole little villas far and wide i wai gleaning bloom tor It honored hon-ored dead, With tears for tho who had bled and j died, but I had only beld. Tb scent of tha roaes ao wind-blown aweet went billowing by Hit God's caress, And I aaw a aon and a mother meet and ached with lonellneas. So my eyea were blurred till I could not aee the wreath-bright crowd's advance, Until one little flower girl ran to me "Oh, bur a poppy for Prance," aald aha; "For Flanders Field and France." For France and mjr face stung sharply sharp-ly hot. This May day aweet with Its blossom blos-som strewn To be a soldier and be forgot a few abort years ao aoon! She looked up sweetly and said, "Don't grieve. PerhaDS you've your own crosa Over There?" I smiled and showed her my empty eleeve and aald, "My cro I bear!" And, "Alone?" ehe murmured. "Beneath "Be-neath the flax your blood waa apllled to lift?" Then ahe tore out the bloom from hex hair at that And thruat It Into my ragged hat Ail day I wore her gift. Teuta'a Comoanloa. |