The bright yellow fields

are dried and brown

but, still, there-in

the red wing black is found

twirping his soulful

yet cheery sound

promises of new life

from out of the ground

Bright orange-yellow poppies

peacefully nod

not a worry from them

they are produced of God

So comes our lives

sometimes brown

sometimes green

but alway there is God

on whom we can lean

worry free...

and with peace