In Flanders Fields
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 your 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.
John McCrae
I was delighted to find fields upon fields of these gorgeous red poppies in Georgetown, Texas this weekend. I had no idea they were so plentiful and was fascinated by the history of these little gems. Please check it out for yourself!
https://mainstreet.georgetown.org/visit/history-and-historical-tours/red-poppy-history/
