Poems & Selections

Flanders Fields

by John McCrae
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 fieldsTake up our quarrels 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

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. […]
May the joys of today Be those of tomorrow. The goblets of life Hold no dregs of sorrow.
You never said I’m leaving You never said goodbye You were gone before I knew it, And only God knew why A million times I needed you, A million times I cried If love alone could have saved you, You never would have died In life I loved you dearly In death I love you […]
May your neighbors respect you, Trouble neglect you, The angels protect you, And heaven accept you.