See the flowers that dot the fields?
They are sunny weather things.
The fragile remnants of
five thousand melted Springs.
Daisies would shake off
their coat of dew and yawn.
Unruffled and unawares,
they were slow to meet the dawn.
Sprouting Lupines would push
through earth with cocky glee.
But they would grow to blush
at what there was to see.
Scattered, homeless, yet at home
in rocky crag or plain,
Dandelions are fierce
and willing to complain.
Daisies got their petals plucked.
"He loves me and he loves me not".
Lupines were left behind
in cut glass vases to rot.
Yet Dandelions persist,
playing parts in mystic designs.
Ever wonder which Angel watches
over these damned Dandelions?
