Literature
Two poems about poppy's
one:
Poppy dear
Oh dear poppy,
where I lay my head,
you are my pillow,
you are my bed,
born from blood,
of people passed,
it is here I have found,
my peace,
at last.
two:
The moment
Crouched amonst the red,
the green,
and the yellow,
I stare into the poppy's spots,
I raise my photobox,
and capture the moment,
I am savouring the sensation,
and preserving for the future.
