Dandelion
Dandelion, do I snip you in your bud,
lest your fleeting flight of little wings
do take their hold, multiplying ten fold
or do I make wine, for by the hour you
propogate this lawn of mine, a green
field of sun's golden shower of flowers
Oh Dandelion, so misunderstood, you
are deemed a weed by those whom
would crown you, by fastidious deed in
their need to define you as something
less than ideal, yet I feel a presence,
upon my lawn, of spring's golden dawn
taking over like clover, Oh Dandelion
(April 11 2016)
Copyright © J. Tudor | Year Posted 2016
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