101 Poems - Post #2

Another oldie, but goody. :)

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.

-Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae
(The author of this poem, a member of the first Canadian contingent, died in France on January 28, 1918, after four years of service on the western front.)

I read it and it gave me goose bumps. I could see in my minds eye (and also courtesy of OPB & staying up late) a picture of Flanders field and the lines and lines of crosses that mark the final resting spot for the brave men and women who died in battle.

Maybe its my state of mind, and where I'm at right now....but it was so hauntingly beautiful.... I couldn't not post. :)