this photo I took on friday and I looooove poppies


journaling
The Poppies


I planted me a garden and I kept it trim and fair:
The red rose, the white rose, the bleeding heart were there.
And gentle-mannered pansies fringed the lily's stately dress,
But I had no thought for poppies, that bring forgetfulness.
The royal, radiant poppies,
The fragile, flaming poppies,
The gaily tender poppies,
That bring forgetfulness.

And Youth came through my garden with his careless, eager feet:
The red rose, the white rose, he found them rarely sweet.
He brushed aside the bleeding heart's most innocent distress,
And he did not heed the poppies, that bring forgetfulness.
The tissue-petalled poppies,
The wind-beloved poppies,
The scarlet-skirted poppies,
That bring forgetfulness.

Time came and passed my garden, and he left no beauty there.
The red rose, the white rose, so maidenly and fair!
Now only shattered petals meet a vagrant wind's caress,
And I seek other gardens for the heart's forgetfulness.
The lovely, languid poppies,
The slender, swaying poppies,
The drowsy-hearted poppies,
That bring forgetfulness.
by Esther M. (Clark) Hill


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