Uncle Charlie
don’t you see,
that little girl back there
was me?

Filled with happiness and light,
no one ever
brave enough to bite.
Day after day,
and night after night…
She became lonely
and would lay
in the golden hay.

She loved,
but never found rest.
All the boys wanted her
for her *******.
She felt useless and
soon became
ruthless.  

Now,
Uncle Charlie,
do you see
how that little girl back there
used to be me?

We drove to wild poppy fields,
Lost and open under the sun,
To picnic in solemn, spent wonder,
And celebrate new found love.

Gentle rain came blowing in—
The sky painted a clouded mood,
And old mist rose in lighted heat
A gentle sheet of covering dark.

We then broke down to take leave,
Our lent time was now dead—
There under the cathedral of sun,
Our love smoked in poppyhead.