She is indeed sexy, though she glitters darkly like a Borgia Princess. The poppies are a wonderful family. We have a jaunty little yellow one here in Wales, buttery and nodding and springing up in every wall crack and crevice to herald the Summer. But down in the herbaceous borders of the garden are the Orientals, unfolding from tight buds like debutantes in crinolined taffeta decanting from taxi cabs at the gates of Buckingham Palace. They’re magnificent and shining, but one hint of wind or rain and they collapse hysterical and bedraggled in a heap, their petticoats over their heads. Fortunately there are always their sisters following behind them ready to start the party again, though they grow weary and shed their finery far too quickly for my liking. Good time girls with no discipline or staying power! But oh so beautiful.