Purplerays

    .

    The Poppy Fairy

    The green wheat’s a-growing,
    The lark sings on high;
    In scarlet silk a-glowing,
    Here stand I.

    The wheat’s turning yellow,
    Ripening for sheaves;
    I hear the little fellow
    Who scares the bird-thieves.

    Now the harvest’s ended,
    The wheat-field is bare;
    But still, red and splendid,
    I am there.

    By cicely Mary Barker

    Art by Lynne Bellchamber

            Text and image source: Petie Barre https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=468204170934985&id=100032362197041

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