Mary Posted November 10, 2011 Report Share Posted November 10, 2011 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. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
algy Posted November 11, 2011 Report Share Posted November 11, 2011 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. Mary, thank you for that very touching poem. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Cleopatra Posted November 11, 2011 Report Share Posted November 11, 2011 We Shall Remember, even though far from England's shores. WE SHALL REMEMBER. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wireboy Posted November 11, 2011 Report Share Posted November 11, 2011 Very nice. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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