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First Poppies.
You came out
Of the sky,
To help me and keep
Me dry.
Answered pleas of despair.
With a simple offer of an ear.
You came out of the sky,
To ease my bleeding heart.
Kind and thoughtful,
Decent and sweet.
You came out of the sky,
To help me and keep
Me dry.
On the day in my garden.
My red poppies took root
For the first time.
poem
by
Peter Vealey
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