Saturday, November 10, 2012

Lest we forget

                                           Remembrance Day

                        The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month

In Flanders Fields - a poem by Dr. John McCrae 

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.

   My favorite picture; my Uncle holding a picture of my Father