6 comments

      1. I’d like to share a poem with you..I didn’t write it, but I found it very powerful called
        Dandelions
        We pick all the dandelions;
        Nice lawns don’t grow them.
        Stuck inside glass vases
        Behind rose-littered curtains,
        They have their place.

        I asked Mama, “Where do they come from,
        Those noisy sunbursts that we kill?”
        She said, “Don’t think it’s killing.
        They’re only dandelions,
        And this season is for real people.”

        After that, I stopped giving names
        To the ones I tied around my neck
        In chains and kissed before they withered,
        But I kept skipping the small ones
        Just starting, with buds tightly shut.

        Copyright �2005 Kristine Lamey

        Liked by 1 person

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