Poppy Day

poppy for blog

Here’s a poem for today.

I’d like to be able to say I wrote it but it’s not mine.

It was written by John McCrae in May, 1915. And it’s one of my favourite poems.

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 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.

Someone has had the great idea of scattering poppy seeds so that they bloom in time for the 100th anniversary of the First World War on 4 August, 2014. In that way we can all commemorate the enormous sacrifice that was made on our behalf.

Here’s the link if you would like to buy some poppy seeds to scatter:

http://realpoppy.co.uk/

poppies            © Andrea Neidle, My Life in Poems

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4 Comments on “Poppy Day”

  1. Thank you for your comment Irene and for writing about your experience of visiting the war graves.

  2. Brian says:

    Very nice post Andrea! It is such a great poem.
    Including the Poppy seed website is a good idea too, I have ordered some!
    I have changed my FB site picture for one of poppies that I did a few years ago.
    Well done
    Brian

  3. Irene Dougherty says:

    A very beautiful and moving poem. I have visited many of the World War I sites in Belgium and France. The Commonwealth War Graves Commission tend the graves constantly. To stand and imagine the dreadful conditions that many of the soldiers endured is very emotional. The Canadian War Memorial at Arras in particular is incredibly majestic as it stands high on a hill. Passchendaele is also incredible as you can do a tour of the trenches and see the dreadful conditions the soldiers had to endure and the sacrifies they made. Thank you for reminding me of this beautiful poem.

    Geoff’s Grandad fought at Ypres and only survived the War because he was wounded and returned to the UK. He would tell us of the dreadful conditions, lice crawling all over their uniforms and the awful cold weather. We should never forget the sacrifice so many made.

    X Irene


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