The White Cross by Avni

 
The hazy dawn kissed the village fair, 
Unaware of shadows gathering near. 
A storm of whispers, secrets deep, 
Covered by fog, the wind silently weeps. 
 
Once iridescent blue waves, 
Turning a somber grey. 
Just like their hopeful eyes, 
Now filling with dismay. 
 
Sand dunes whiter than pure snow, 
Knuckles clenched, bearing silent woe. 
Gunshots and bombs echo from below, 
Secrets only Normandy's cliffs would know. 
 
Soldiers down on the grieving ground, 
Looking up with honor and truth. 
Their spirits gone, bodies blue, 
Yet hearts remained steadfast and true. 
 
Blood shed over miles and miles, 
Where doves now freely fly. 
Poppies bloom in silent rows, 
Marking where the fallen said goodbye. 
 
Crimson leaves flutter, red and gold, 
In the fields where heroes roamed. 
We tell their stories, brave and bold, 
Remembering those who called Canada home. 
 
But, lest we forget, the day we were met, 
With peace, 
With loss, 
And, 
The White Cross.