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In Poppy Fields We Sleep

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. For All that have gone and for those that go on...BLESSED BE,,,, WILL WE EVER LEARN...


annette steens 27 May 2007

You are making specific work in comp dig I think! Like it, Maggie!

Jerry 27 May 2007

Lovely colors, contrast and mood!

M. Usman Ul Haq 26 May 2007


Michael Forbus 26 May 2007

Miss Maggie, this is magnificent. So delicate, romantic and melancholy in the same hearbeat. Truly beautiful. The accompanying prose is exquisite. Michael

Joanna Jungjohann 25 May 2007

gawd this is beautiful