Poetry Wednesday

By Judith

This poem by John McCrae (1872 - 1918) may be the most famous - and most often quoted - poem about the Great War, about all war. In tribute to this past Armistice Day, and to all the veterans, alive and dead, let's not forget the terrible price war exacts. And let's appreciate what the brave men and women who have served, sacrifice for us, no matter how we feel about any given war.

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.