They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted:
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
Excerpts from "For The Fallen" by Laurence Binyon
My brooch is the intertwining of forget me not and poppy for undying love and remembrance.
Lovely photo…
A beautiful brooch among fallen leaves to accompany the moving except from the poem. Touching tribute!
Ian