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In Flanders Fields
2005-11-11
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.

Hit the link for the story behind the poem.
Posted by:Eric Jablow

#4  comments); ?>werwer
Posted by: john   2005-11-11 16:14  

#3  comments); ?>werwer
Posted by: Eric Jablow   2005-11-11 15:25  

#2  comments); ?>werwer
Posted by: Barbara Skolaut   2005-11-11 11:50  

#1  comments); ?>werwer
Posted by: Glenmore   2005-11-11 10:33  

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