POEM FOURTEEN - AUSTRALIANA - THE DANDELIONS DANDELIONS A fellow whom I‘ll keep un-named. Was quick to see my name defamed. He’d laugh and jibe from dusk till dawn, About the state I kept my lawn. ‘I can always find your house,’ he’d say. ‘The dandelions give you clean away!’ And even then I’d let it pass. But still I wouldn’t cut my grass. The years went by, and he’d still crow, About the flowers I would grow. On the footpath, in the lawn. My dandelions were things of scorn. Then one day this poor bloke died, And as I wept by his graveside. I placed a tiny token there. Of sadness felt and my despair. Some months later, on a whim. I felt the need to visit him. My children really thought the worst, As I was laughing fit to burst. For there upon his fresh-turned mound Some yellow flowers could be found. Their slender stalks were now full grown. It was the dandelions I’d sown. Bill Charlton 2004
Posted on: Mon, 26 Aug 2013 01:51:43 +0000
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