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!
