"In Flanders Fields" but it's Ned Flanders

by toastflower

Summary:

John McCrae's famous and tragic war poem, reimagined ever so slightly.

Notes:

Honestly? your guess is as good as mine. I don't know why either.

In Ned Flanders fields, the popply-opplies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, cry

“Hi-diddly-ho, soldierinos!”

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

 

We are the Ding-Dong-Diddly-Dead. Short diddly days ago

We lived, felt dawn-diddly-awn, saw sunset glow-diddly-ow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

(wearing nothing at all),

                          In good ol’ Ned Flanders fields!

 

Take up our quarrelino with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The tor-diddly-orch; be yours to hold it hi-diddly-high!

If ye break faith with the Good Lord, or the Church, or Reverend Lovejoy, or us who doodily die (diddly),

We shall not sleep, though popply-opplies grow

                            In ol’ Ned Flanders fields.

Notes:

RIP Lt.Col. John McCrae, who probably would've been utterly baffled by this. But he had bigger things to worry about. Like pneumonia.