With a spurn of yellow and a shout –

With a spurn of yellow and a shout –
   A lone Mexican poppy  
Aside the mountain path  
   Caught my meandering eye.  
 
How diminutive was its stem  
   And so few were its petals –  
Nevertheless – smart with poison –  
   As it stood there – tranquil.  
 
For one who’s loud in color –  
   I warned the little poppy –  
It’s not good to be popular  
   For you can be plucked easily.