In Praise Of My Lovely Dandelions Poem by Theresa Dould Cummings

In Praise of my happy Dandelion

When I gaze beyond my garden gate my eyes
pause longingly, at the myriad of yellow crowns
that no one loves but me. Why did man begin a war
upon my yellow crowns? My gentle yellow dandelion,
means no harm at all. They do not hide nor creep away, thehold themselves with pride. The grazing cattle love them still
as do the bumblebees. The first bouquet laid at my
feet, wrapped in ribbons blue, stained from pollen
flowing free from the tender yellow crowns. Expensive
fragrance nor exotic dyes are created using these, my
dancing happy dandelion covering my fields. They make a lovely beverage to cool your head at work, a dainty wine is
also made from my tender yellow crowns. My favorite
time to walk amongst my happy dandelion, is just before
and almost after a day of rain and sun. Please excuse, as
I remove my shoes to walk awhile, the still-damp leaves
that surround my feet always make me smile. You can keep
your snooty roses, and return your rarest orchid, for I am
waltzing in my field of gold, would you like to come along?

Theresa Dould Cummings© 07/19/008