Leave it to my kids to need a song

They needed a song to help them memorize the poem. Fortunately for me, there already was one.

In Flander's 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.

~Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

1. Print the poem here and the minibook version here
2. Wear poppies in remembrance - I love to find the ones made by veterans at the VA hospitals, but if they're not available use these

Happy Birthday, America!

The Flag Goes By

Henry Holcomb Bennett

Hats off!

Along the street there comes

A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums,

A flash of color beneath the sky:

Hats off!

The flag is passing by!

*

Blue and crimson and white it shines,

Over the steel-tipped, ordered lines.

Hats off!

The colors before us fly;

But more than the flag is passing by.

*

Sea-fights and land-fights, grim and great,

Fought to make and to save the State:

Weary marches and sinking ships;

Cheers of victory on dying lips;

*

Days of plenty and years of peace;

March of a strong land's swift increase;

Equal justice, right, and law,

Stately honor and reverend awe;

*

Sign of a nation, great and strong

Toward her people from foreign wrong:

Pride and glory and honor,--all

Live in the colours to stand or fall.

*

Hats off!

Along the street there comes

A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums;

And loyal hearts are beating high:

Hats off!

The Flag is passing by!

XI

I will make you brooches and toys for your delight
Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.
I will make a palace fit for you and me
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.

I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room,
Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom,
And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white
In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.

And this shall be for music when no one else is near,
The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear!
That only I remember, that only you admire,
Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire.

from Songs of Travel and Other Verses
by Robert Louis Stevenson

Robin's Secret

We have a secret, just we three.

The robin and I and the sweet cherry tree:

The bird told the tree, and the tree told me,

And nobody knows it but just us three.

But of course the robin knows it best,

Because it built the, I shan't tell the rest;

And laid the four little, somethings, in it-

I am afraid I shall tell it every minute.

But if the tree and the robin don't peep,

I'll try my best the secret to keep;

Though I know when the little birds fly about,

Then the whole secret will be out.

To My Dear and Loving Husband

by Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.

If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee;

If ever wife was happy in a man,

Compare with me ye women if you can.

I prize thy love more then whole Mines of gold,

Or all the riches that the East doth hold.

My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,

Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence.

Thy love is such I can no way repay,

The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.

Then while we live, in love let's so persever,

That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Snowflakes

Out of the bosom of the air,

Out of the cloud-folds

of her garments shaken,

Over the woodland brown and bare,

Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow