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Sort by The Kevin and Patrick Blog (Free subscription) - 11/11/2009
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...
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Sort by Queer Conservative (Free subscription) - 11/11/2009
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...