Poppies by Francess Smith

On the road we are looking for #hiddenwelshtreasure – whether that is a venue, a history, a story or an evening. It is always a privilege to discover and be discovered. Here, in response to Coleridge in Wales is a poem by Francess Smith.



Floppy poppies floating in the sun

Are a source of joy for everyone

They should grow amongst the wheat we eat

And in small doses are a treat.


Like Frankincense they conquer fear

But only if we respect them dear

They help remove the pain of man

But wont fulfill the challenge or plan.


You see it is up to us to grow

Like Scarlet Poppies in the snow

Fighting off the frost and cold with

Loves golden, reddened glow.

When we find that golden glow

Our own opiates we can grow.


By Francess Smith

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