I am no daffodil
whose grace flatters the breeze
neither am I a rose
whose grandeur is the envy of queens
I don’t take well to the vase
as lilies or tulips do
my life is the fields
where I weave golden carpets for you
I love to turn my face to the sun
glow like the stars when days are wan
I sail in the breeze
and grow where I land
a dandelion I am,
at the mercy of the mower’s hand.
I come with Spring though the world  be unkind
my greatest joy is a little child
who picks me up as a precious flower
with all his love, gives me to his mother.




    • Thanks a lot, El Santo. My children inspired the last lines – two of them like picking up dandelions for me. Your own mother must have been as happy as I to receive the dandelions.

  1. Lovely!
    And who wouldn’t prefer a dandelion … We get the flower to nurture our souls. We get the fluff to make a wish on. We get greens to nurture our bodies. Bravo!

    • Until last year, I never knew that dandelion parts are edible. One day, we planned to have fritters but we always forgot to pick the flowers just before cooking time. Maybe this year, I can actually pick out some leaves and flowers for a salad. 🙂

  2. Delightful, Imelda. My children loved the latter part of the dandelion’s life – when the flower turns to the white fuzzy fluff – when in one mighty breath they could huff and puff it off. Underrated flower, or worse, weed. Thanks for sharing.

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