Between the Lines
Dent de Lion
There you were, golden maned
popping up everywhere I looked
as I leaned back yesterday,
enjoying the warmth of an after rain.
Drawing me to you, I plucked you
from the meadows, beside the stream
brushed you lightly against my cheek
surprised at your softness,
and how delicate you really were.
All my life you were but a weed
though cosmopolitan, and to some
an herb, producing a dandy wine
to drink or as is, edible to feast upon.
I eyed you, held you, played with you
studied your strong stem,
your little hairs, fine tuned...
breathed in scent of sweetness.
Why was I so surprised...
sensing your want of acceptance?
Yesterday, you received mine.
I kissed you with my lips and you
left your tracings of gold upon them.
A weed no more, I see the beauty in you.
written when I was MMoonchild...sighting my first Dandelion of 2000
"The worst prison would be a closed heart".
...Pope John Paul II
[This message has been edited by nakdthoughts (edited 04-26-2001).]