Remembering

November 11 is Veterans Day.  The day when those who served know what it means and those of us who didn't, to remember and be grateful for those that did. My father served, my hubbie served,  and as a woman, I can't imagine leaving my family. 


Growing up we learned this 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.


Canadian physician and Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae is popularly believed to have written it on 3 May 1915.


And later on, I leared this beautiful poem...


High Flight


Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.


Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF


Wishing you all a beautiful day.