In fields where sunlight gently spills,
The poppies sway with timeless grace.
Their whispers ride on summer’s breeze,
A dance in crimson, soft embrace.

Beneath the sky’s vast, azure dome,
They weave a tale of time and lore.
Each petal holds a secret song,
A melody forevermore.

Amidst the waves of red and gold,
The poppies sing of days gone by.
Their beauty, fragile, fleeting still,
A fleeting kiss beneath the sky.

In silent rows, they stand and wait,
For gentle winds to call their name.
In dreams, they bloom eternally,
A timeless dance, a whispered flame.