High on a bright and sunny bed
A scarlet poppy grew
And up it held its staring head,
And thrust it full in view.
Yet no attention did it win,
By all these efforts made,
And less unwelcome had it been
In some retired shade.
Although within its scarlet breast
No sweet perfume was found,
It seemed to think itself the best
Of all the flowers round,
From this I may a hint obtain
And take great care indeed,
Lest I appear as pert and vain
As does this gaudy weed.
The Poppy by Jane Taylor
YOU ARE READING
PRECIPICE [h.s.]
Fanfiction"Look Harry, I don't know what you're getting at here, but I'm really not looking for anything right now, and I am so busy with work, and -" "You wouldn't happen to be trying to push me away because you're scared of the fact that I'm not scared of...
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