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11:15 PM
The Poppy Fairy
The green wheat's a-growing,
The lark sings on high;
In scarlet silk a-glowing,
Here stand I.
The wheat's turning yellow,
Ripening for sheaves;
I hear the little fellow
Who scares the bird-thieves.
Now the harvest's ended,
The wheat-field is bare;
But still, red and splendid,
I am there.
Flower Fairies of the Summer | Cicely Mary Barker.