Love love living in this country of ours and I'm especially greatful for those who have fought to make it what it is. Especially you, Mike. I'm very proud of you. I feel a great deal of indebtedness to those who have done something that I know that I'll never do, but I can remember them.
So even though I'm not from our great 51 state...erm I mean Canada I really love the following poem and it means a lot to mean on today for the 11th hour of the 11th month.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the the crosses, row on row,
That mark the 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 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 fields.
-Lt. Col. John McCrae
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment