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A poem for Remembrance Sunday

Bugler blows end of day, time to rest
each note separate, not easy, skill is needed
And in respect for a comrade fallen
emotions rise, yet control is held
this friend’s sleep will not be broken

Solemn notes sound so lonesome clearly
commanding silence, peace, respect
bugler’s own heart is breaking, plays on
though tears may well, dignity kept
heart rending Last Post is his duty

Published in LifeLine

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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