In Flanders FieldsBy 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.
God bless our veterans living and dead. God bless our current service men and women. And God bless America.
Thank you all who have served in the armed forces.
Papa's flag (that flew over the U.S. Capitol on his 65th birthday) is flying out front.