Long after your shucking,
Chucking dumpster divine diving,
Of me and mine,


Dandelions Lament




We paint a yellow picture,
A carpet of delight,
But yet you shun us,
And blame us for your plight,

You pick us,
You Shuckus,

You pluck us and chuck us,
Into green Garden refuse cans,

Our smell is not that of disdain,
But of a fresh as dew,
Fallen rain.

What have we done,
To deserve this outrage,
This put upon malady of you?

Your dogs Piss on us,
Crap on us, why why why?

Innocent flowers crying
Just Dandelions, whining,
Yellow buttered petals,

Burning in the sun,
Oh,
That I could have been a Rose,
A carnation,
Oh,
Anything but this.

Why do you hate me for being yellow?
With hippo head leaf?
And green Milky stocks?

I grow and you,
Will not put me out,
I flower in the sun,
Shade, and rocks,

Long after your shucking,
Chucking dumpster divine diving,
Of me and mine,

I will still be here,
Yellow as the sun,
Growing wild in your garden, Grass and walk,

Aye, Tis the lament of the Dandelion.




Poetry by W. Burkholder
Read 466 times
Written on 2007-03-02 at 21:51

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kath
ah, this is a beautiful lament from the strong and beautiful Dandelion....

In Sweden we call people who manage to survive and stay sain when growing up in harsh and painful enviremontes for "Dandelion Children"..

your poem was a delightful read ...

best wishes
kath
2007-03-03



I admit: I am not without warm feelings for the dandelion!
I have written about it.
I have photographed it.
My garden is full of them.
(did you all know, that even in our northern corner of Europe there grow around 200 varieties of dandelion?? I wonder now many thousands you must have on the other side of the pool!!)
Inevitably, I'm gonna bookmark this poem!
2007-03-02