First Pic. The light in a Cave on the, Beach. The Soldier, First World War. "Tommy"
I refuse to call it, The Great War.
https://picasaweb.google.com/1078896798 ... 9H-2eLBjQE
Seaham To Day. A walk around
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Seaham To Day. A walk around
Last edited by RonDon on Tue Dec 16, 2014 5:44 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Everyone who lives dies, yet not everyone who dies, has lived. We take these risks not to escape life, but to prevent life from escaping us ...
Nice pictures, sad subject, brings tears to your eyes, lovely piece of poetry though, so right for the time that it was written in...... such a waste, but there you go,
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.
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.