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
In times of loss, find poems of remembrance and comfort to provide the right words for the occasion. Browse our selection of poems about funerals, and for more, check out poems about loss in the themes menu.