I think that it is mighty wise
for the poppy to have the
stiff upper lip smile
whatever the tune.
It blooms red in Flanders' Field
fed on the blood of the warriors
who may notice now what they did not then.
Out of the rust of guns and helmets
a swaying sea
the color of hope and life.
The flowers a token of balance
to answer the whispered why?
The gold from fields of Poppies
in the Dunningan Hills
celebrate the sunshine
and the wine grape
with a dance on the gentle breeze.
Is it the predetermined charge to the Poppies
to smile with full bloom,
never to judge life's other pace.
Perhaps in this crazy world there needs to be
a Poppy that smiles on schedule
for the optimism in life