Up on Poppy Hill

From up on Poppy hill sits a whitewashed cottage

Its flowers bright, its grass green

And under waving flags overlooking the windswept sea

Sits a girl on poppy hill, amidst the pink blooms

She throws her head back, laughing with the summer salt breeze

Hair in braids, pink dress sweet

And I watch her, as I pedal up to Poppy Hill

Amidst the pink blooms she waves at me

The flowers sing my name, rosy as I am when she smiles

Dancing, sprawled across her sun-filled lawn

Her eyes bright like the sun’s warmth

And they ask me to join her, joyously under endless sky

And when I press across the blooms, and walk to her side

I am on top of the world, surrounded by blue and rose strokes

Watching those flowers sing our song

From up on Poppy Hill