In fields where crimson poppies bloom,
They sway and dance, dispelling gloom.
Their petals soft, like silken dreams,
Catch the sunlight in golden beams.

Amongst the green, their fiery hue,
A symbol bold of life anew.
Whispering tales of ancient lore,
They stand resilient, forevermore.

Through storm and rain, they hold their grace,
Withstanding time in nature’s embrace.
Their beauty, fierce yet gently told,
A story painted in shades of gold.

In twilight’s kiss, they softly glow,
Poppies in the fields, in endless row.
A tapestry of red, so bright,
They weave a landscape of pure delight.