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' by John McCrae, May 1915

It's been a while since I've included a lyric or poem, but for today, it seemed appropriate.

I've thought about taking this picture several times, the silver birch with the church windows in the background but only today did I seem to frame it how I wanted it. Plus there's some pretty leaves :D

Cake ingredients bought, this weekend there may be a blip of a cake being made. Unless I eat it all. As for just now, I'm finishing off the Two Towers commentary with the last of the beading, and then I'm probably going to slob on the sofa and watch a film.