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Tuesday I'm off to Flanders Fields and will wander the old battlefields where the Kiwis fought during World War One.
I'm involved in a rather delicious project that comes together in time for the 90th commemorations of the Battle of Passendaele and Mesen next year.
We will be walking over a landscape that contains an unimaginable tonnage of unexploded shells ... oddly enough, I find this thought rather sobering.
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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.
1 comment:
In Flanders Fields
rode papaver..
touching...
http://maharal.blogspot.com/2006/04/poppies-in-holy-land.html
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