The Poppy
By Mary T. Hoffman

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The Poppy
By Mary T. Hoffman

The graceful poppy, scarlet-gowned,
Dances in the breeze.
When raindrops bend her to the ground,
She pauses on her knees.
When sunlight dries her silken skirts,
Up again she’ll soar.
Bobbing about she smiles and flirts
And pirouettes once more.