Louise Ayres Garnett

From “Flowers of War”

LAST night I dreamed the Cross of God

Stood rooted deep in Flanders sod,

And wide its open arms were spread

Over the fields of living dead.

Mile upon mile the crosses rose

Shepherding sleep’s supreme repose,

And as I looked they seemed to be

Merged into conquering Calvary.

O Jesus—more than Savior now:

Brother, soldier, captain, Thou!—

Each of Thy comrades of the cross

Treasures the gift that man calls loss.

Oh, what an Easter lies concealed

Beneath the flowers on Flanders Field!