I'll wait it out. Paranoia go away.
Now where was I?
Ah here we go..
I could kiss the stars as each one gleams.
Catching my attention, whilst way up in the sky.
If I could just reach high enough, I'd wrap my arms around the moon.
I could never repay you for all you've done.
Thankful I can see you in the birds as they fly by.
Notice you in the butterflies, fluttering in circles.
The bees in the garden, while they wear sunflowers for a dress.
Dandelions are meant to be wished on.
As it scatters, seeds find a new place to rest.
The rain from the sky washes me clean, as my own tears become nysnc with the sounds of such water falling.
The wonders of everyday life. I come to realize as I write.
What’s as good as blowing bubbles?
What’s cleaner than play dough or slime
and cheaper, no cost, small troubles?
Grown-up dandelions are fun;
ask any youngster in spring time.
They’re seeds for delight by the ton.
Neighbor kids may gather around
but who'd consider that a crime?
Grabbing a hose, they play splashdown.
It all makes this great-grandma smile
watching from the porch in her prime.
Lawn-lovers may gripe, “not worthwhile”.
Words, like freed dandelions, have blown away,
Who knows where each one has gone?
These scribbled fragments lie scattered in the corners,
And no one knows what became of them
when a heart fell silent,
and breath was cut off.
Yes—poetry… this eternal balm—
for years it could soothe no pain.
What happened, then,
that the spring of love began flowing again
from within these wounds?
The blood-red poppies of my notebook
have found life again
when two women
—she I was, and she I have become—
take each other’s hand.
They stitch the words together for you,
riding every drifting dandelion-seed
toward you…
bright yellow flowers
turn into floating puff balls
scattering their seats
Dandelions;
Flower blooms;
Perfect bliss;
Happiness enriches;
Care less, worry not;
Love more, Do you;
Be great- like Christ
The perfect example;
Salvation brings;
Joy, then rejoice;
Then comes your reward.
I see a tree, a rope, a dog, dandelions, waste paper, clouds, a toy
Can I maintain their random appearance in my mind
Or shall I bow to the fate of man
impose order, get a handle on them
What sits in stillness
What breathes back life
into heaving, dusted lungs
What holds space for this outline of my body
Traced by your alabaster hands
like dandelions on my skin
A feather touch
with the cadence of a humming bird
What comes down on my outstretched arms
like the warmth of an old radiator
Tink tink tink on my open shoulders
What brings me back to the calmness of the sea
What rushes in my heart
like a heavy tide, flowing into me swiftly
yet with the patience of an oyster
What is drawing in delicate aromas
Awakening my senses
allowing me to taste the sweetness
of the earth again
What could ever bring me the peace
of a dove
But to be here with you
my love
The dandelions spoke gibberish today,
their wishes in disarray from a roiling wind
sweeping through lowland fields and meadows,
and among the gnarled roots of elder trees along the riverbank~
I squint my eyes trying to shade them from the glow of the setting sun,
to watch bubbles of joy
from yesterday wash downstream
toward the dark valley of disillusionment.
In the spring we're hungry
Dandelions are mowed down by the millions
We watch helpless in disbelief
Wordku: 5-7-5- words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I’m a pretty cute flower
Still they call me an undesirable weed
Don’t they know namecalling’s hurtful
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Dandelions bountiful spot the lawns
Adding unwanted colour where it’s not welcome
Persnickety eye of the beholder
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025
DANDELION WISHES
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moon, a silver coin tossed high,
hangs in the velvet sky.
Dandelions, ghosts in the grass,
glow faintly, catching borrowed light.
Each puff is a soft, silent prayer
carried on the breeze, destination unknown.
“Do they reach the moon,
these tiny seeds of longing?
Or do they tangle in the stardust,
blooming anew on some distant world?
The moon offers no answers, only the quiet solace
of its unwavering gaze.
I look upward, hearing only the soft, persistent murmurs
of the evening breeze blowing across the grass
Daisies twisted into fantasy crowns and jewelry.
Honeysuckles permeating the nose, golden-buttery.
Sweet Honesty, when I was fresh and summery.
My spirit was the frenetic wind, a new storm exciting.
Shades of purple-yellow-green-pink polish, engaging.
Loose, the elbows-knees-hips-ankles-neck, sashaying.
Belly flop onto a gorgeous garden spread, a teen’s bed.
A record-player, all my own, spinning vinyl, ‘fore I wed.
What’s for dinner, left up to my mom; memories embed.
When wishes, were strewn in every direction, the seeds
of dandelions…when a natural glow, not internal, beads
lit up my face. Life before me, without a glimpse of weeds.
Now, I see clearly, the fresh trek of my progeny, assessing
various paths, as if there’s a purport that they’re following.
The fragrance of a bridal train; wisteria of vibrant blessing.
I apologize
For all the dandelion necks
I have snapped
I saw the bending stems of lively green—
Where stalked a little sun of yellow bright.
Should love be like a flow’r, a sweet nineteen,
And May, a month so dry and passing rites.
Of fondest dearing names I say and tell,
Adoring in ways never thought I’d say.
Alas a wind of chill and heat did fell,
A sign for flight to wait, o’er skies of fray.
Oh, sweet Dandelion love, winds will come
And take My love, my soft yellow embrace.
Dandelion love, rites cannot break from.
When wind do carry you, swiftly I chase
When May again come, be adored by me.
Then gone should winds blow, L’amour de ma vie.
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