In Flander Fields is a poem about World War 1. The man who wrote it was called John Mcrae. He was mourning a friend who had just been shot. These are the words. 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.
This is me reading it.
This is a lovely poem Kate. I like how you have written out the poem as well as reading it. I remember this poem from when my children were in Mr Grays class.
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