The Poppy Queen
In wispy waves she courts the breeze
At fringes in the summer fields
And gentle are the thoughts that greet
Her scarlet sprinkling of the wheat.
Busy martins sweep the sky
As poplar leaves commune on high.
Mares tails drawn in frozen swirls
Fix Denton’s merry morning world.
My flow of thought runs deep and clear,
I sense her presence drawing near.
Above corn’s coarse and brittle throng
I hear her soaring, crimson song.
She smiles on all who smile with her
Then lingers at their hidden ear
To whisper words they all once knew
When gathered by a moonlit Yew.
No sorrows bind the spirit’s surge
As worlds within these moments merge.
So, what I am and I will be
I see in flower, leaf and tree.
I will leave her golden throne
With a heart so happy to have known
A sense of joy in being free
To feel creation laugh with me.