The Little Marigold

Today I passed a marigold, waltzing in the wind. As sparkling silver sunbeams, flashed it a million grins. Returning an hour later, my heart cried out in hurt. The trampled fragile marigold, lay crushed in the dirt! No more would the little marigold, bend and blow in the breeze, feel sunbeams on its face, or converse with meadow bees. But next day the sun was shining, as I walked that way again. And there stood the little marigold, waltzing in the wind! Now if this world crushes you, beneath its powerful feet, remember the little marigold, and never accept defeat. 2013