Poppies

Yup. Moses clickbait! I do hope you like this poppy post, though. 

The 'birth' of a poppy is a wondrous event. All those crinkly petals squished inside a fuzzy cap slowly breaking out into a fluttery form. I wish I had red poppies, I will have pink ones-I'd thought they were white and gave one plant to a friend. Alas, they are pale pink. They will still be very pretty~ At any rate, these orange blossoms are a blaze of beauty everywhere you look. The first start of this bunch came from a friend a town away. I'm forever thankful! In the middle of these lovelies, I'll share a popular poppy poem for Memorial Day. May we never forget the ones who have fallen through the years. SSG J. Vrooman,  1 Lt J Riggs, SP4 D Barnett, and so many more. Thank  you to those families who gave so others might know freedom. 

In Flanders Fields-by John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

    That mark our place; and in the sky

    The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

    The torch; be yours to hold it high.

    If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.