Realistic coloured poppy bouquet tattoo on the upper chest, visible above a grey V-neck top, with a partly visible tattoo on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Poppy bouquet on the upper chest

Realism · Chest · Colour · Photo

A cluster of red, orange and pink poppies with buds and green leaves sits on the upper chest near the collarbone, extending toward the top of the shoulder. The petals are rendered with soft shading and fine detail, giving a painterly, botanical look. The colours are warm and vivid against the pale skin, and the tattoo is framed by a grey V-neck top, with a second tattoo of pink flowers partly visible at the lower right.

Realism Botanical Chest Poppy Flower Bouquet Petal Leaves Bud Rose

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down, the lot of you, and mind the gull on the bench, he's been waiting longer than you have. No, I'll not start with the sea. Everyone starts with the sea. I'll start with Maud Tregarthen and the poppies she carried up the cliff path every Thursday in a jam jar.

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The jar had been her husband's. Dan went out of Porthkerris in the March of the bad weather and the Mary Ellen came back without him, nets wound tight and nobody at the wheel. Maud didn't cry in the chapel. She cried at the harbour wall, where the wild poppies came up between the stones like they'd been posted there. Red, orange, that peachy pink you only get from something left out in the weather. She picked them in fistfuls, wrapped the stems in wet newspaper and carried them down to the slipway.

Now here's the bit the Harbour Board doesn't want written down. The fishermen started leaving their mugs on the wall when they came in. Nobody asked them to. Maud would fill the jar from the bucket she kept under the tap at the Lobster Pot, and by the spring there wasn't a boat in the harbour without a flower tucked in its wheelhouse for the men still out.

Dan came home in the end. Not on the Mary Ellen. On a trawler from Newlyn with a bloke called Pascoe who swore he'd been carried on a pallet of cod for three days. Maud was on the slipway with the jar. She didn't say a word. She just handed him a poppy, and he took it, and that was the whole of the ceremony. I've told it better every night since, but that's the truth of it.