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They disembarked in 45
And no-one spoke and no-one smiled
There were to many spaces in the line.
Gathered at the cenotaph
All agreed with the hand on heart
To sheath the sacrificial Knifes.
But now
She stands upon Southampton dock
With her handkerchief
And her summer frock clings
To her wet body in the rain.
In quiet desperation knuckles
White upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boys Goodbye again.
And still the dark stain spreads between
His shoulder blades.
A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves.
And when the fight was over
We spent what they had made.
But in the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut.
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.
originally posted by: joejack1949
I've always wondered...
Why were there so many poppies growing in Flanders fields? Of course poppies contain opium. Is it a coincidence that the soldiers were fighting in poppy fields? It wouldn't be the first (or last) war over opium.
originally posted by: joejack1949
I've always wondered...
Why were there so many poppies growing in Flanders fields? Of course poppies contain opium. Is it a coincidence that the soldiers were fighting in poppy fields? It wouldn't be the first (or last) war over opium.