OT: LEST WE FORGET

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.

Exhibit A: Canadian poetry.

..they've brought back the (accurate) black-centred poppies, and mine has one, but I had to ask for it so as not to get one of the green-centred leftovers.::a true story

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