Hermione
There's an amber-colored pane of glass in his studio skylight, and he has to sit and wait and wait and wait until the moonlight falls through that pane onto his paper, and then it only stays long enough so he can write a few lines, and he can't go on with the poem until it comes again.
He brought me one last night—he wrote it to me—yes, really!—and he waited and waited for enough moonlight to do it, and caught a terrible cold in his head, poor dear Fothy.
It goes like this:
Poppies, poppies, silver poppies in the moonlight, poppies!
Silver poppies,
Silver poppies in the moonlight,
Youth!
Poppies, poppies, crimson poppies in the sunset, love!
Poppies, poppies, poppies!
Black poppies in the midnight,
Death !
Three colors of poppies!
One color is silver,
The second color is crimson,
The third color is black,
And if there were a fourth color it would be green!
[54]
