As the sun peeks over the hill at the crack of dawn,

Mother and child rise to meet the new day.

They wake to the rooster’s crow and the dog’s bark,

To meet the rays of sun that warms their hearts.

As mother makes their food the child runs out to play,

With the calla lilies that gleam almost as bright as sun.

Father was gone,

Nowhere to be found,

But she is happy with her mum,

Safe and sound.

And no matter what struggles they face,

Their white calla lilies outside were their saving grace.

Each day they headed to the market,

Freshly picked lilies in hand,

To sell by the flower or bouquet,

For money to keep their land.

Mama carried the till and some flowers of her own,

Little Poppy carried the rest of the flowers,

So many white colored lilies in her hands,

They hid her face.

They sold flowers till dusk,

It was time to go home,

They packed up and left,

With no flowers of their own.

They waved to the other vendors,

Who also waved their way,

As Little Poppy and her mama hurried home,

To the calla lilies that missed her when she was away.