In corners of forgotten fields the poppies bleed each night. For they remember nameless men who lost their wings in flight.
I love poppies and let them grow everywhere they seed, even in the cracks of paving stones. I never tire of painting these hauntingly beautiful, delicate little flowers and always think of my late Father when I see one. I added my daughter’s violin to this painting.
Poppies have been around for thousands of years and are highly prized for their beauty and medicinal properties. In all, there are 760 species of poppies worldwide and many species are used in current painkilling drugs. All species of the papaver family have both a pistill and stamen so the flowers are bisexual and capable of self sowing.
In Greek mythology the poppy was asscoiated with sleep, health and strength but is now more widely recognised as a symbol of rememberance. In 1915 Col. John Mc Crea authored the poem titled, “In Flanders Fields”. The sight of these delicate red flowers growing on the shattered ground caught his attention. He noticed how they had sprung up in the disturbed ground of the burials around the artillery position he was in. It was during the warm days of early May 1915 when he found himself with his artillery brigade near to the Ypres-Yser canal. He is believed to have composed the poem following the death of a friend at that time. The first lines of the poem have become some of the most famous lines written in relation to the First World War.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. 
Poppy seeds can lie dormant and thrive in disturbed ground and many war zones became awash with poppies in the spring after the battles ended.
I’m hoping the poppies grow in my new strip of meadow, and one day when I go out, there will be a sea of red.
