Saturday, November 12, 2011

Poppy's Poppy's Everywhere...

They are everywhere at the moment. Everyone is wearing them. Everyone wears them in remembrance of those brave men who gave their lives for a better world. Down the road there is a memorial, one of hundreds throughout England. At the foot of the memorial - a statue of a soldier - are wreaths of poppies. I cannot walk past without my heart stirring.

This particular marking of history always moves me. Each time I attend a Remembrance service and watch the men and woman - bent with age now - who sit quietly, heads bent, remembering horrors and times so difficult that we, the younger generation, will never fully comprehend. I cannot help the tears that seem to fill my eyes and spill over. It is not that I am remembering those times, for I am too young, but it is the compassion and empathy that I feel for these brave woman and men that stirs up such emotion in me.

And yet, here in this day, there is a younger generation still, that show disrespect to these wartime hero's. They overlook them, see them as doddering old fools. I intend to teach my children never to forget to honor and show respect to these people. And when they pass on - as most of them have - to never forget to show honor and respect to their memory. I pray that my children will teach their children, because we cannot hope to build a better place if we forget.

This poignant poem, written by John McCrae, and photographs were taken from the UK website - The Great War

In Flanders Field
Poppy photographed on the First World War battlefield of the Somme near the Thiepval Memorial to the Missing.
by John McCrae, May 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.

Flanders Poppy on the First World War battlefields.

1 comment:

  1. I posted this poem on my blog yesterday, Shirley Ann. It's so beautiful..and, at the same time, so sad.


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