In Flanders Fields
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.
In honour of my husband's uncle, MIA December 1941.
Thank-you.
Today I remembered a grandfather I never met, a grandfather who came home with physical reminders of the war, and an uncle who came home with the mental reminders. And all those people I have never met, but who sacrificed so that I may live in freedom.
ReplyDeleteThank you,