Saturday, November 10, 2012

In Flanders field the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place;and in the sky
The Larks still bravely sing and fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

Two verses follow .... ending with:

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......

And all these years later we continue our wars 'while poppies grow in Flanders field.'

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