The Poppy

The poppy was wrapped in a coat of green, Buttoned up close and tight, But underneath she was dressed like a queen In a silk frock, gay and bright. She threw off her coat, she shook out her gown, She smoothed her scarlet frills, And all day long, while the sun shone down She danced on the summery hills. Then, tired, she flung off her gown or red And tumbled it round her toes, And now she stands with her little bare head A-nod in the breeze that blows A-nod in the breeze that blows.