In fields where gentle breezes play,
Poppies sway in a crimson ballet,
Whispering tales of forgotten lore,
Beneath the sun’s golden, watchful gaze.

Their petals, soft as a lover’s sigh,
Dance with the wind in a tender embrace,
Secrets held in their scarlet hue,
Echoes of dreams in a vibrant bloom.

Amidst the grass, they boldly stand,
A sea of red in an emerald land,
Each blossom a silent, fiery flame,
Painting the earth with nature’s hand.

Oh poppies, in your fleeting grace,
You capture the heart with timeless charm,
Forever swaying in nature’s song,
In fields of wonder, where dreams belong.