lest we forget11 Nov 2020 11:06
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 falling 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 Field