[Hobbes]

on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month is

Remembrance Day in Canada.

Lest we forget

To all the people who have forgotten to wear their poppy today:

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.


And this by Edith Kenn whose Husband landed on Juno Beach D Day.

He walked between the crosses where,
A brooding silence filled the air,
For here his comrades fought and died,
To lie forever, side by side.
And he recalled that distant war,
The screaming shells, the cannons' roar;
When death lurked just a breath away,
To reap his harvest day by day.
Of lost tomorrows, dreams of home,
And memories of love they'd known.
He bowed his head in silent prayer,
And left them in the angels' care;
And then beneath a peaceful sky,
He breathed a final, sad, "Goodbye."

Edith Kenn