Literature
Two poems about poppy's
one:
Poppy dear
Oh dear poppy,
where I lay my head,
you are my pillow,
you are my bed,
born from blood,
of people passed,
it is here I have found,
my peace,
at last.
two:
The moment
Crouched amonst the red,
the green,
and the yellow,
I stare into the poppy's spots,
I raise my photobox,
and capture the moment,
I am savouring the sensation,
and preserving for the future.
![Literature Resources [updated Jan.2014]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/9fc3e33f-da56-4e9b-92ee-8d6d38418d44/d2vmhi9-74708b32-b41d-49a2-bff1-8415946e0fcb.jpg/v1/crop/w_184,h_184,x_1,y_0,scl_0.65714285714286,q_70,strp/literature_resources__updated_jan_2014__by_worldwar_tori_d2vmhi9-92s-2x.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MjgwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvOWZjM2UzM2YtZGE1Ni00ZTliLTkyZWUtOGQ2ZDM4NDE4ZDQ0XC9kMnZtaGk5LTc0NzA4YjMyLWI0MWQtNDlhMi1iZmYxLTg0MTU5NDZlMGZjYi5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9Mjg1In1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.yz3Wce_zMNilWuB2OPeQRwzP6twkn14ZScDrD9jYEYQ)
![Literature Resources [updated Jan.2014]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/9fc3e33f-da56-4e9b-92ee-8d6d38418d44/d2vmhi9-74708b32-b41d-49a2-bff1-8415946e0fcb.jpg/v1/crop/w_92,h_92,x_0,y_0,scl_0.32857142857143,q_70,strp/literature_resources__updated_jan_2014__by_worldwar_tori_d2vmhi9-92s.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MjgwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvOWZjM2UzM2YtZGE1Ni00ZTliLTkyZWUtOGQ2ZDM4NDE4ZDQ0XC9kMnZtaGk5LTc0NzA4YjMyLWI0MWQtNDlhMi1iZmYxLTg0MTU5NDZlMGZjYi5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9Mjg1In1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.yz3Wce_zMNilWuB2OPeQRwzP6twkn14ZScDrD9jYEYQ)
