In Flanders Fields
John McCrae, 1915.
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
We didn't see fields of poppies today on our outing through the countryside to the graveyard, but we did stop and gather wildflowers along the roadside....have you ever seen so many wild coneflowers?! The brown speck at the top left of the picture is me!
More of the beautiful countryside.
My husband is able to find beauty in everything....even a thistle weed!
There was a wee bit of magic in our garden this morning....little mushrooms that look like parasols for fairies....just those little things that make you smile.
Go forth and be creative,