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Prose and Poetry
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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.
-Captain John D. McCrae
George T. Curtis (RIP. 9/17/2005)
Posted : 2003-05-22 22:30
Poppies
These poppies were growing wild.
John
Posted : 2003-06-17 18:17
Poppies in Flanders Fields
Another view of the same pair of poppies. They were growing wild in a hedgerow near the Somme. They grow everywhere.
John
Posted : 2003-06-24 06:27
