Get me rewrite!

Hello, Sweetheart. Get me rewrite!

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Elaine Stritch (February 2, 1925-July 17, 2014) sings “I’m Still Here,” written by Stephen Sondheim.

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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.
By Lt. Col. John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

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.

By Lt. Col. John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

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To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.



The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.


That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.


Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.


Robert Herrick (1591–1674)

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

Robert Herrick (1591–1674)

(Source: getmerewrite.biz)

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Our late friend Clem Taylor won the Peabody Award for this story. If you missed it on 60 Minutes, watch it — and be inspired.

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It was a sultry night in Cartagena de Indias. The prostitutes were lazing on benches and pretending to talk on their cell phones in the shadow of the Puerta del Reloj, where the three wide arches of the main gateway, like the loose women, welcomed visitors to the pleasures of the walled city…  It was early still and Don Fernando Mendez Borrero, who was on his honeymoon, had just finished dinner, with his bride, at the 17th century Sofitel Santa Clara, which used to be a convent and which the great writer Gabriel García Márquez chose as the setting for his novel Of Love and Other Demons. Don Fernando Mendez Borrero and his bride had walked to the Plaza de los Coches from the restaurant in San Diego and the walking made Don Fernando hot and the heat reminded him of the donkey who caught on fire.
The story went something like this. READ MORE

It was a sultry night in Cartagena de Indias. The prostitutes were lazing on benches and pretending to talk on their cell phones in the shadow of the Puerta del Reloj, where the three wide arches of the main gateway, like the loose women, welcomed visitors to the pleasures of the walled city…  It was early still and Don Fernando Mendez Borrero, who was on his honeymoon, had just finished dinner, with his bride, at the 17th century Sofitel Santa Clara, which used to be a convent and which the great writer Gabriel García Márquez chose as the setting for his novel Of Love and Other Demons. Don Fernando Mendez Borrero and his bride had walked to the Plaza de los Coches from the restaurant in San Diego and the walking made Don Fernando hot and the heat reminded him of the donkey who caught on fire.

The story went something like this. READ MORE