A thing of beauty

The Poppy

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.

By Jane Taylor 1783–1824

 

 

Yesterday I spent part of my day pulling up dandelions and photographing this poppy (the first to bloom in our yard)

…..both weeds I suppose in their own right.