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Isheanopa Zvobgo Mar 2019
I hope shooting stars fall on all your empty acres.
The places where the seeds I planted never grew.

Places that won't even grow poppies.
Yes, I'm praying the Sars fall on no man's land.
More commonly known as your heart.
May stars fall next to Flanders Feilds
Toxic yeti Dec 2018
Little red
Wildflower
A Poppy
In a field with others
Like him
Gently sway in the in the breeze
Sometimes watching the other
Poppies
Sometimes
a couple of lovers
Coupling.
Today I put a little flag
Down, beside a stone
Where grass and weeds were rampant
And the plot was overgrown

I knew not where he came from
I did not know his name
But, today I left a flag for him
As I'm sure he'd do the same

Today I put a little flag
Beside a soldiers lonely plot
Just to show we thank you
And that nobody forgot

A little flag beside a stone
For one who gave his all
A little flag beside a stone
For answering the call

Today I put a little flag
It waves there in the cold
For a soldier lies beneath the earth
Never ever growing old

A simple little gesture
For a soldier long since dead
I cleaned away the grass and growth
So his story could be read

Today I put a little flag
And I hope you'll do the same
Just to show that you were there
Though you do not know their name

Maybe leave a poppy there
It may blow to someone's door
With a thousand other poppies
From those who came before

Today I put a little flag
Beside a stone, so hard and white
For a soldier who gave all he had
Doing what he thought was right

Today I put a little flag
Beside a stone and then I cried
Remembering how young he was
We won't forget just why he died

Today...I put a little flag
Jenna Kay Feb 2018
I want you to open up my chest
It's filled with bouquets of poppies and roses
Take as many as you'd like
I didn't grow them for myself
I just want to see you hold beauty
And if it's mine . . .
And when you're sick of roses
Open up my skull
And I'll teach you how to hold a hurricane
No one calls me by name anymore
I'm the Poppy Man to most
At least that's how most folks know me

I've been selling poppies for the legion
Since 1946
Let's see...yep...it was 46
Went over in 43 at 17 years of age
Home in 45, and yep...46
Same spot too.
There's been two owners here at Danny's. Funny thing though....
neither was called Danny. Turns out Danny was the brother of the original owner, got shot down over Germany, so they named the place after him.
I guess that's why they let me come here and sell poppies every year.

Good thing.
Now, I'm getting up there, they let me sit inside the door. Have a nice little table for myself, and they keep my cup full.
I start selling November 1st, at precisely 11 o'clock. That's just the way it should be....11 o'clock.

Over the years, I've put up with wind, rain, snow and I've always held my post. Lost a few poppies in the wind one time, and the funny thing was...people came and paid me for them afterwards. Told me they found them blowing up the street, figured they were mine. Funny things that people do.

I'll tell you 'bout the name The Poppy Man. It started in 1952. A young mother and her daughter were inside having lunch, and I heard the daughter going on about saving change for the Poppy Man. I guess, I was the Poppy Man.
One of the waitresses put a sign up by the register saying "don't forget to save your change for The Poppy Man"....and it's kinda stuck.
That little girl came back every day with her mother, dropped her pennies in and saluted. You know the way kids do...hand open and all. I guess I owe the name to her.
I've collected lots of memories over the years, most of which I can only smile about now. If I start talking about them, I'd just tear up and you wouldn't get the whole story...so, I'll keep them to myself.
I'm a bit of a celebrity in these parts I guess.
Teachers bring their classes to me, every year to get their poppies. They always send me nice letters too, saying thanks Poppy Man. Cute little drawings, and big printing. Nowadays, I appreciate the big printing more and more.
Over the years, I've collected pennies, dimes, nickels, the usual suspects, bus tickets, candy wrappers, subway tokens, whatever someone had in their pocket at the time. I've seen it all in my tin.
The last few years, I guess since about 1997 or so, the cadets send someone down to stand with me for a while during my stint here.
Good kids mostly, dedicated, and with the same determined look I think we all had back in 43 when I went over.
Most of us didn't make it back, I'm one of the lucky ones. Some who did, never came back right if you know what I mean. But, that's all I'm gonna say about that.
There's only 5 of us left now from the old regiment. I can still see their faces when I shut my eyes....young, virile, strong. I miss them all.
I guess that's why I do it. Sell the poppies every year. It's for them. And for the new kids. New soldiers, new wars, it never changes in that way...just a different style of fighting.
Every now and then though, you know I hear that old bugler tuning up his bugle, and I think "not yet...I'm not ready to have The Last Post played for me"...."not yet".
So, that's about it for me, The Poppy Man....everyone knows me, and I'm easy to find ....just head to Danny's, I'll be at the table at the front.
Don't forget now....save your change for the poppy man.
Lina Lotus Apr 2017
In wings of Amapola
I'm wrapped...a new seed found

Atop round midnight strands
circlets keep my dreams

I'm drunk, intoxicated
spring has poured right through my veins

I sit on dirt side dreams
The desert calls my name
For now, I sit, I wait
I watch through windowpanes

I watch my crystal world
Where butterflies are dancing
And hummingbirds are diving
They dive into white Lilies
then jump into Camellias
While Zinnias wait their turn

The lilacs look my way and tell me, "soon your turn...
Your turn is coming soon"
I smile...all I do
For now, I sit,
I wait... like Zinnias
wait their turn
Wrote when I had no choice, but to be in bed for daaaays! the longing to go outside, to feel the sun, to touch the soil
Kevin Feb 2017
in the early bloom
when poppies blossom full of pollen
and corners that i hate
softly round themselves into an infinite curve
you'll know me all too well
before and after
the kisses i keep become exposed
from the deepest mushy peels
and gentle grapefruit mist;
but only in the early bloom.
Gabriel burnS Dec 2016
her lips,
of blooming poppy,
hold promises of *****,
slipping past the choices,
knowing they'd be caught
too late, and not before
they've met desires
secretly
in shadows underneath
the moonlit balconies
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