A POPPY grows upon the shore Bursts her twin cup in summer late: Her leaves are glaucous green and hoar, Her petals yellow, delicate. Oft to her cousins turns her thought, In wonder if they care that she Is fed with spray for dew, and caught By every gale that sweeps the sea. She has no lovers like the Red That dances with the noble Corn: Her blosoms on the waves are shed, Where she sits shivering and forlorn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEW YEAR'S DAWN - BROADWAY by SARA TEASDALE AN ECHO FROM WILLOW-WOOD by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE BATTLE-SONG OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS by MICHAEL ALTENBURG DROWNED IN HARBOUR by ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA OPEN MY EYES by ALICE E. BAILEY ON THE THRESHOLD by ASTLEY H. BALDWIN THE SINGERS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |