We are heading south for the long weekend. We'll drop our house guest off at her girlfriend's house and continue down to see our girls and their family. Our eldest grandson will observe his first Remembrance Day as a uniformed Beaver alongside his Papa who will be proudly wearing his UN Blue Beret and medals. Another generation of handsome men in uniform!
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.John McCrae
1 comment:
Those patterns are so funny :o)
That's such a lovely poem and it's nice that you posted on your Blog. I finally found myself a poppy today!
Have a great weekend!
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