I pass along the following; lest we forget. Tony Ontario
Reply to Flanders Fields Oh! sleep in peace where poppies grow; The torch your falling hands let go Was caught by us, again held high, A beacon light in Flanders sky That dims the stars to those below. You are our dead, you held the foe, And ere the poppies cease to blow, We'll prove our faith in you who lie In Flanders Fields. Oh! rest in peace, we quickly go To you who bravely died, and know In other fields was heard the cry, For freedom's cause, of you who lie, So still asleep where poppies grow, In Flanders Fields. As in rumbling sound, to and fro, The lightning flashes, sky aglow, The mighty hosts appear, and high Above the din of battle cry, Scarce heard amidst the guns below, Are fearless hearts who fight the foe, And guard the place where poppies grow. Oh! sleep in peace, all you who lie In Flanders Fields.
And still the poppies gently blow, Between the crosses, row on row. The larks, still bravely soaring high, Are singing now their lullaby To you who sleep where poppies grow In Flanders Fields.
- John Mitchell
PLEASE WEAR A POPPY
"Please wear a poppy," the lady said And held one forth, but I shook my head. Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there, And her face was old and lined with care; But beneath the scars the years had made There remained a smile that refused to fade.
A boy came whistling down the street, Bouncing along on care-free feet. His smile was full of joy and fun, "Lady," said he, "may I have one?" When she's pinned in on he turned to say, "Why do we wear a poppy today?"
The lady smiled in her wistful way And answered, "This is Remembrance Day, And the poppy there is the symbol for The gallant men who died in war. And because they did, you and I are free - That's why we wear a poppy, you see.
"I had a boy about your size, With golden hair and big blue eyes. He loved to play and jump and shout, Free as a bird he would race about. As the years went by he learned and grew and became a man - as you will, too.
"He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile, But he'd seemed with us such a little while When war broke out and he went away. I still remember his face that day When he smiled at me and said, Goodbye, I'll be back soon, Mom, so please don't cry.
"But the war went on and he had to stay, And all I could do was wait and pray. His letters told of the awful fight, (I can see it still in my dreams at night), With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire, And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.
"Till at last, at last, the war was won- And that's why we wear a poppy son." The small boy turned as if to go, Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know. That sure did sound like an awful fight, But your son - did he come back all right?"
A tear rolled down each faded check; She shook her head, but didn't speak. I slunk away in a sort of shame, And if you were me you'd have done the same; For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed, Thought our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!
And so when we see a poppy worn, Let us reflect on the burden borne, By those who gave their very all When asked to answer their country's call That we at home in peace might live. Then wear a poppy! Remember - and give!
by Don Crawford