Short Secateurs Poems

DANDYLION

I am a humble dandelion
(You see, I know my place)
I’m not up there with the roses,
I occupy a lower space.
To some I’m an unwanted weed,
At best an unwanted flower.
I’m not pruned with secateurs,
I’m hacked to death with a mower.
It’s your fault I get everywhere,
When all is said and done.
If you don’t want me in your lawn,
Don’t scatter my seed head for fun!
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I love the sweet violins of my world
That issue the clandestine tunes, 
To soothe my nerves and quench 
My desires spooky and strange; 
I love the forlorn sight of the sand dunes
That adorn the arid spots of my life, 
Tucked away from cacophony and strife: 
The secateurs that the tree of wisdom prunes; 
I rejoice in the tranquil quiet of lofty minds
And the treasured solitudes of all kinds; 
A refuge from fuss and bustle that ruins....

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