Poppies Weep
Poppies clustering in an open field
While bright red faces wave above
The sun shining thru delicate petals
While more heads burst from below.
One single delicate flower it rests
On a slender stem with no leaves
Its simple beauty is a picture of
Nature’s example of less is more.
Immortalized in a familiar painting
From a well-known talented brush
But hidden away in unknown fields
Maligned for a drug it has made.
When did we make the poppy
Turn from a thing of beauty
Into a powerful instrument
That destroys so many lives?
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