Crimson poppies
There are days I think I’m about to reach
The end of a long, rickety jetty
That’s how I feel on many-a-day
In this month of January
I see there is refreshing
That’s sorely needed now
Yet it seems oh so far away
Like a ship’s stern is from the bow
I long to set sail right now
To a sparkling horizon
That promises a new beginning and hope
And reprieve from my dreary doldrums
But no I must tarry still
And trudge with heavy boots uphill
Until I reach the peak of this mount
Then crest downslope with a leap
And a bound
To a valley of crimson poppies
Bobbing joyfully in the breeze
And dive into their sweetness gleefully
Refreshed like dew-soaked, rain-drenched leaves
