I have some poppy seed my sister gave me.

They are very old --

she has since past on through the golden gate

to whatever awaits us on the other side,

but she gave me a bottle of poppy seeds

close to twenty years ago, when we lived on 10th,

and I scattered most of them randomly

in the garden we had then

and all summer long they danced and flirted

with their fancy scarlet gowns,

and brought us great pleasure.

While delving into the medicine cabinet this morning,

away up on the top shelf I found the remainder

of the poppy seeds, in the same dark jar she had given me.

I have a patch of poppies in the side garden...

I noticed yesterday that it was growing by leaps and bounds

and had made room around its feet 

for a lovely bunch of blooming violets.

A pretty picture!

That garden is over-run with violets, and not the blooming kind

but instead the wild violet plants that dig in anywhere they can,

and send runners out spread through the peonies and the iris.

A real pain, and unfortunately I am not as nimble

as I once was, and find it hard to squat, or kneel,

and even harder to eventually get up and toddle off to a garden bench

to rest!!

When Charles and I were in France and visited his brother's graves

the fields of Flanders were lined with poppies

And some time ago I ran across this picture

of a Lancaster, flying over a field of poppies,

which somehow seemed so appropriate

for my Lancaster pilot husband, paying tribute to his brothers.

      cc....

But I digress from the dark jar and the seeds that have been waiting

so many years to prove themselves as summer beauties.

I knew just where to put them, - a little patch under a birdcage on a pole,

right beside the old tin garden shed!

And that's where they are scattered, and hopefully will respond

to the sunshine and the rain and the warmth

and I will have something lovely. reminding me of my sister

whenever I go by!