A little bud with a low bowing head and when you bloom
your the colour of red.
Red for danger and as red as the rose, but you the wild
poppy such an elegent pose.
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Fantastic imagery again Sylvie. This is a lovely poem that has a mournful quality that reminds me of some of the great war poetry. Splendid Steve x
Praise for your beautiful.elegaic poem.Your fine words cannot fail to touch the receptive hearts of your readers. They have certainly touched mine. Love, Sandra