Like blood that pools ’round the gaping wound

The crimson blossom sprouts from the ground

As the flesh decays and returns to dust

Becomes the cruelest sacrifice in a cause unjust

The body submits to Nature’s inevitable toil

Leaves its very essence to fertilize the soil

And so in the lonely, unmarked grave

The abundant poppies adorn the fallen brave

I haven’t been inspired to write poetry lately. (Be kind!) I wanted words to accompany my painting of Poppies in No Man’s Land. (Also be kind!!)