In fields where whispers softly tread,
Poppies bloom in fiery red,
With petals bright against the sky,
A gentle dance where dreams reside.
Beneath the sun’s warm, tender gaze,
They sway and weave in quiet praise,
Guardians of the stories past,
In every breeze, their secrets cast.
Their fragile grace, a fleeting art,
Yet strength resides within their heart,
Through storms and rain, they boldly stand,
Emblems of beauty, hand in hand.
O poppies, in your silence deep,
Where memories and dreams do sleep,
Teach us to dance with gentle grace,
In life’s vast and wondrous space.