In Flanders Fields 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 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. I have put together another blog post with all my favourite photographs that I took during our trip to Belgium earlier this year. You can find it here.

In Flanders Fields 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 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.

I have put together another blog post with all my favourite photographs that I took during our trip to Belgium earlier this year. You can find it here.

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    It’s Remembrance day/ Veterans day/Armistice day, lest...forget all of those
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