Истории Poppies

An old, school project of poetry.

Everyone knows the tales of the Brothers Grimm, set in the Black Forest of Germany. But what about the stories made in that magical forest that have gone untold? This is the story of Katherine, the girl who longed for adventure.

On the road to deep, dark Avici, There lies a myriad red poppies. « a pastiche dedicated to Shuji Terayama »

A collection of poems based on things in life we may forget about or over look at times. They are on the beauty and darkness of this world. Suicide, nature, waves, war, dreams, chocolate and etc. There won't be any ones on love for a boy or a girl. 2nd poem- The cycle 3rd poem- Denying our promise 4th poem- Superficial 5th poem- Dawn Service 6th poem- Lies

This is a short description of a story based on Power/Conflict. It was an English assignment where I had to use the words: Blond/Autumn Slide/Park Thorns Jumper Poppies Trees To make a story based on either of these topics and this is the end result. Please do not copy. This story is really important to me. Please given me feed back and grade me UK US 1 - U 1 - 0 GPA 2 - U 2 - 0 GPA 3 - U 3 - 0 GPA 4 - Pass 4 - 1.0 GPA 5 - C+ 5 - 1.7 GPA 6 - C+/B- 6 - 2.3 GPA 7 - B-/B+ 7 - 3.0 GPA 8 - B+/A- 8 - 3.3 GPA 9 - A-/A+ 9 - 4.0 GPA THANKS

Two orphans (Ricco and Emilio) are living in Ancient Rome. "Anche tu, Emilio" tells the story of their exploits. This includes everything from the games they play in the dusty cobblestone streets to Ricco's first exposure to the beautiful red poppy fields of Italy. But despite the fantastic adventures they enjoy together, life on the streets is still easy for no one, and sometimes, something has to give.

More short stories about the bear family and friends

In a world where Big Pharm rules, Kai must make a choice.

To remember all the millions of soldiers and courageous souls that have fought in order to protect our freedom and search for peace, I have written a short descriptive story focussing on the horrors of World War 1. We vowed 'Never Again' and so we commemorate the deaths of everyone who has fought and continues to fight to strive for a safer world. On the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month in 1918, they signed the armistice and the world was allowed to grieve and recover in quiet melancholy.

There lived once a girl with eyes of red who was locked away. This was the princess of Deoir, the blind girl who played music all through the night. In the same city, there lived once a boy who saw the world differently. This was the tailor's son, the finder of the Truth, who wrote his stories all through the night. This is their tale, in the Land of Tears, on the western lands of the southern island of Halldin, among the coast of the Finnler sea, in the great world of Tasun. Within their tale is tragedy, and love, and courage, and hope. Please, leave harsh reviews. I am working to make this story as perfect as possible, for I love this story that I have created and wish to tell it as good a story as I believe it to be.

People describe Hell as a fiery - as well as scary - place. To Enid, not at all. Hell is bright and happy, full with flowers - especially poppies - and trees. She always thought it was her imagination, though. Hell couldn't be like that, according to the priests, nuns, and church people altogether that worship God. What Enid didn't know was that she was the Princess of Hell, Satan her father. (Does not follow the actual, biblical-ness. I DO NOT worship Satan, I am not religious and like to sleep.)

This poem is for Remembrance day. This poem turned out depressing but I hope you all like it. Lest we forget!

The melody plays on..

a collection of short poems written about the first and second world wars

(On hold but like not on hold??) Coquelicot ( /ˈkoʊklɪkoʊ/ KOHK-li-koh) a shade of red, similar to one of a poppy flower. _____ He wants her, he does too. But he's the shadow to the flame. _____ Flames don't have shadows.

A poem inspired by the thought: The poppies we lay down for the soldiers who died in battle will never be equal to their lives. #2 in warpoetry 26/7/19

I don't have a name, but I do have a species: Stylophorum diphyllum. You can call me Poppy and this is the story of my life, beginning with the moment that I sprout from a seed.

A war based poem focused on remembrance of those who have fallen.