Friday 28 June 2013

Even when the light faded

and all colour leached from the beach

this yellow horned poppy

shone like the midday sun.

A poppy grows upon the shore,
Bursts her twin cups in summer late:
Her leaves are glaucous-green and hoar,
Her petals yellow, delicate.
She has no lovers like the red,
That dances with the noble corn:
Her blossoms on the waves are shed,
Where she stands shivering and forlorn.

Shorter Poems Robert Bridges.


  1. I've never seen a yellow poppy. Such a happy sight.

  2. Lucille, this is a beautiful post...and that yellow poppy at the shore is something wonderful that I would not otherwise have ever seen.

    Thank you so much for such a sight, and also for the poem.

    it's times like this that make me so happy to be a part of a blogging world...full of generosity.


  3. Unlike the red poppy , the yellow , unlinked to death , is just gloriously summer .

  4. Very lovely. And to think I've been complaining about the rash of yellow poppies that has invaded my garden.....

  5. What a magnificent beach.. great captures

  6. I think the word for this is 'apropos'...? Or just, lovely.