Restless they grow as the season draws near.
The seeds are frosted by the last breath of winter
Summer draws near and they quiver with excitement
They whisper to each other, "Our time, it is coming."
Then summer it dawns like the sun in the east
The seeds they cheer their time is finally here
Spinning at sprouting they rise up like trees
Running along the hills they are free, they are free
Like flames they flower growing quick and nimble
Their red petals shimmering and shining in the new morning dew
The Poppies they shine and glow like fire on the hills