In Flanders Fields
The
World’s Most Famous WAR MEMORIAL POEM
By
Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae
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.
Composed
at the battlefront on May 3, 1915
during the second battle of Ypres, Belgium
Why Wear a Poppy?
“Please
wear a poppy,” the lady said
And
held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then
I stopped and watched as she offered them there.
And
her face was old and lined with care;
But
beneath the scars that years had made
There
remained a smile that refused to fade.
A
boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing
along on care-free feet.
His
smile was full of Joy and Fun,
“LADY”
said he, “MAY I HAVE ONE?”
When
she’d pinned it on he turned to say,
“WHY
DO WE WEAR A POPPY TODAY?”
The
lady smiled in her wistful way
And
answered “This is Remembrance Day”
And
the poppy there is a symbol for,
The
gallant men who died in war.
And
because they did, you and I are free-
That’s
why we wear a poppy you see.
I
had a boy about your size
With
golden hair and big blue eyes,
He
loved to play and jump and shout,
Free
as a bird he would race about.
As
the years went by he learned and grew
And
became a man - As you will too.
He
was fine and strong with a boyish smile
But
He’d seemed with us such a little while,
When
war broke out and he went away,
I
still remember his face that day
When
he smiled at me and said “GOODBYE’
I’ll
be back soon, Mum, so please don’t cry.
But
the war went on and he had to stay,
And
all I could do was wait and pray
His
letters told of the awful fight (I can see it still in my dreams at
night).
With
the tanks and guns and the cruel barbed wire,
And
the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.
“Till
at last at last, the war was won
And
that’s why we wear a poppy son”.
The
small boy turned as if to go,
Then
said, “Thanks lady I’m glad to know.
That
sure did sound like an awful fight,
But
your son – did he come back alright?”
A
tear rolled down her faded cheek;
She
shook her head but didn’t speak
I
slunk away in a sort of shame,
And
if you were me you’d have done the same,
For
our thanks, in giving, is oft delayed,
Through
our freedom was bought – and thousands paid!
And
so when we see a poppy worn,
Let
us reflect out burden borne
By
those who gave their very all
When
asked to answer their country’s call
That
we at home in peace might live,
THEN
WEAR A POPPY! REMEMBER – AND GIVE!
