from The Century Dictionary.
- Producing or covered or grown over with poppies; mingled with poppies: as, poppied fields; “poppied corn,”
- Resulting from or produced by the use of poppy-juice or opium; listless.
from the GNU version of the Collaborative International Dictionary of English.
- adjective Mingled or interspersed with poppies.
- adjective rare Affected with poppy juice; hence, figuratively, drugged; drowsy; listless; inactive.
from Wiktionary, Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License.
- adjective Mingled or interspersed with
- adjective Affected by, or as if by,
opium; drowsy; listless; inactive.
from Wiktionary, Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License
Foster feeling, your poppied gaze is all the lunar tide it takes to float the deadweight of our days.
Blossoms and grass from blood in battle spilt, And poppied corn, I bring.
For within the ring, close to the clustering globes, was a miniature replica of the giant track in the poppied valley!
Quick on the screen of my mind flashed two pictures, side by side — the little four-rayed print in the great dust of the crumbling ruin and its colossal twin on the breast of the poppied valley.
The fields, as we swept rapidly past them, were as bathed in peace as when we had left them; there was even a more voluptuous content abroad: for the twilight was wrapping about the landscape its poppied dusk of gloom and shadow.
Here were no melting-yellow mustard-fields, nor flame-lit poppied meadows, nor blue-bells lifting their baby-blue eyes out of the grain.
Tawny-haired, erect, and astonishing in the perfection of his childish beauty, Peter Carolan advanced her a bronzed, firm little hand, and gave her with it a smile that seemed all brilliant color -- white teeth, ocean-blue eyes, and poppied cheeks.
We who took the poppied potion of our life, and quaffing deep5
At such times, it is to the novelists, to the inventors of stories, that we most willingly turn for the poppied draught that we crave.
But sometimes when I do not try to write, and only lean back and close my eyes, I can catch again a little of their breath and sweetness; I can see the purpling vineyards and the poppied fields; I can drift once more with Elizabeth and our girls through the wonderland of France.