On the 11th hour on the 11th month, on the 11th day our clocks whisper as we pledge a minute’s silence in our busy over-subscribed worlds. A minute to thank men and women we never knew. A poppy is the symbol of their eternal spirit.
Colonel John McCrae, a professor in medicine and a medical officer with the first Canadian contingent went to France as a WWI medical officer. He wrote this famous poem:
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.
Colonel John McCrae
I have written my own poem that pales into insignificance after reading McCrae’s words, but it was a great exercise in reflecting. This is mine below:
Poppy – Remember Me
Fields of red. Black hearts weeping,
Where men were slain and now lie in keeping.
A father’s son and a mother’s child,
Once were men, marched in file.
Earth eternally embracing their fall,
Poppies now echoing their ghostly call.
Called to arms to protect the nation,
With hope, pride and jubilation.
Slouch hats at tilt, guns on hips,
Loved ones tracing their empty lips.
The war was long and blood was shed,
Poppies emerged where our heroes bled.
To their death they went as young women and men,
Extraordinary courage in their promise to defend.
Oh poppy grown of this quest,
Under your shadow now at rest.
Our men and women of this land,
Entrenched in this earth’s stretching hand.
Poppy – remember our comrades. Poppy - Remember me.
On this Remembrance Day – help us to truly see.
The men and women we strive to be.
By Samantha Catherine Clifford
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