Thursday, November 10, 2016
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
When you awaken in the mornings hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I did not die.
The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, 1918
The day The War to End All Wars ended.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
between the crosses row on row
that mark our place; and in the sky
Scarce heard among the guns below
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset go
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields
Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from falling hands we throw
the torch - be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
we shall not sleep, though
In Flanders fields.
If only it really had been the war to end all wars................
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