I Got My Red Poppy Today... Did You?

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 In Flanders fields.

This poem was written in 1915 after the author possibly witnessed the death of his fellow soldier and friend. Often found written on worn out pieces of paper in the pockets of fatally wounded soldiers, In Flanders Fields is what inspired the red poppy-pins that are sold (or given for donations) during most Memorial Day Weekends.

ALWAYS one of my favorite poems.