Just dandy (aka "The lion's mane")

Some stand tall, others fall short,
but they are all proud.
Seeds hurled forth on the slightest
of breezes,
but only after its vibrant lemon yellow is
interrupted
by the black banding of a bumble bee.
A name coming from the French
- dent de lion -
translated as "tooth of the lion,"
it is not nearly as fierce as its name implies.
No, quite to the contrary.
Fields of delightful golden pompoms soon
give way 
to a dreamy white haze.
Their delicate lace fingers reach out,
seeds on parachutes,
floating to realms unknown.
They are whispers of
the summers of our youth.
Don't tell me "This is a weed."
I will counter with "This is a thing of beauty."

---

Today's poem does not come from a writing prompt. Rather, it was inspired by the many photos I have taken recently of dandelions in all kinds of light, in all stages of being (well, mostly). This poem has been coming on for a few days, after taking the time to study the intricacies of this fine flower. For an example of a recent photo from my dandelion collection, please see "dandelion sunset" on my photography blog.



Day 26

Unfair

Soil - pilaged
Leaves - mangled
Roots - destroyed
Punished for doing your job,
you performed admirably, yet a little too well.
You took hold in the inhospitable soil
where little else would grow,
slowly choking out what few jewels did thrive.
If you had your way,
within a few years a monoculture would surely reign,
but I did not sign on for that.
Your iron fist will not take over my garden,
so the pulling begins and continues for days.
At first it is cathartic,
the removal feels justified -
Aha, there's a hosta!  Oh look, another! -
but it soon turns to remorse.
A realization that this plant was only doing its job,
covering the ground just as the label said.
It did not sign on for this.

---

Wow, things are just going downhill with my plant poetry, aren't they? This one is based on real life, on the true removal of a lovely but invasive Vinca plant from my flower garden. Poems from days 14-16 will be posted tomorrow - I left my notebook of poems at work by accident on Friday.



Day 17