Another Poem by Poppie

January 2009
Poppie was thriving at school in London taking her silver smithing classes.

A leaf flutters down and nudges by the seeds
that you planted there many years ago.
Did you know that some seeds of thought have wings\?
Look there, that flash of golden flame…
is it just a wind bruised leaf or an oracle of kind?
That crescent moon seems hell bent on guiding me into uncertainty,
and I care little tonight of it’s cosmic touch,
for it is veiled with trapped agate rays of sorrow
So if I chose to drop my heart down in the gutter…
the cause will be a certain sadness set never to repair nor reveal
Or blow on the dandelion…
knowing only too well it will not carry with it that one wish.
Oh these silver tears in vain,
do I weep, save from the majesty that is tomorrow….
When hammer strikes with my skilled hands
the precious metal
Forming something of dignified beauty,
inspired by the strain and joy
of earths mosaic and of late winters promise of spring.