Red Poppy

Red...red poppy,
Clinging to a stem.
A ruby you are,
And a beautiful gem.

Bowing your heads,
In a garden row.
As you move in the wind,
And you silently grow.

So humble you stand,
In your flower estate.
As you sip of sweet moisture,
And you bend there and wait.

You add to earth's color,
And reflect in the sky.
You are petaled in glory,
That meets with my eye.

O Poppy...of red,
All stippled with fire.
T'is your flame of rare beauty,
That makes me admire.

E.P. 1908 - 1989