posted on November 10, 2003 10:15:41 PM new
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
posted on November 11, 2003 04:18:29 AM new
Thanks Kiara. I will never forget. I was born in England 6 months after my father was taken a prisoner of war, I never saw him until I was 4 years old. It had a devastating effect on our family, and he didn't get over it until the day he died. There are still many veterans and their families suffering from the effect of wars, still going on today.
posted on November 11, 2003 05:00:21 AM new
Thank you very much, kiara
"When you go home,
Tell them of us and say,
For their tomorrow,
We gave our today."
-The Kohima Epitaph
"I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it." - A Few Good Men
posted on November 11, 2003 08:19:22 AM new
Kiara, you rock! super post, super prose, wonderful picture of poppy field.
reenie
I don't get even....I get even better Jimmy Hoffa
