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Sunday, November 11, 2007

Never forget

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 sunsets glow
Loved and were loved
but now we lie in Flander's Field.

Take up our quarrel with the foe.
To you with failing hands we throw the torch-
Be yours to hold it high
If you break faith with those who die,
we shall not sleep,
tho poppies blow in flanders fields

~John McCrae

Everywhere I've looked today for some reason this poem has been in my head. It was a favorite of mine...I memorized it as a child. We live in a different world than when this was written. So many people don't know what war is...and far too many do.
It takes away those we love...those we know and doesn't ask. Doesn't think. I never met J's Grandfather...he was gassed during the war and died after he was shipped home. I've just heard stories and seen pictures. I've even been to the field in Letcome Regis where he worked on a sheep farm as a boy. Wish I had known him - cuz for some reason I've been thinking about him all day...

1 comments:

Magnus said...

I've seen the original hand written copy of that poem, I think. They have it at the McGill Club in Montreal.