Skanza
11-11-2010, 04:28 AM
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.
http://www.tinahunter.ca/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/remembrance-poppy.jpg
Ripcord
11-11-2010, 09:51 PM
I wish with all my heart I could shake the hand of every person who has ever served before me and thank them for giving me the greatest gift anyone can give another human..the freedom to live without fear.