Poppies (59)

Poppies are one of my favourite flowers - I love their bright colour and their delicate texture. This picture was painted from a photo my Mum took of poppies growing in a field in England. I liked the contrast of the bright, regular shaped poppies against the chaotic green undergrowth and poppy heads and the play of light amongst it all.

I meant post this a few days ago in time for Remembrance Day as poppies are associated with the World Wars. During the First World War, poppies were among the first plants to spring up in the devastated battlefields of northern France and Belgium and, in soldiers' folklore, the vivid red of the poppy came from the blood of their comrades soaking the ground. A powerful symbolism became attached to the poppy – the sacrifice of shed blood.

The sight of poppies on the battlefield at Ypres in 1915 moved Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae to write the poem In Flanders field:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.