Dandelion, to a gardener no word could be worse
From a man's lips it's often combined with a curse
The neighbor smirks as he looks over your fence
Lotta good it did what with the money you spent
They pop up by the thousands in the middle of the night
Right after you mowed all day, it just doesn't seem right
Along busy highways standing fearless strong and tall
Out of cement sidewalks, tar roads and brick walls
And yet if you should pick one and study it for a bit
Beyond the word Dandelion you'd have a better fit
I tell you for certain, what will take your breath away
Is when your child hands you a dandelion bouquet
Author Eileen Clark
My Missy goes out the door every day, All alone and lonely here I stay. She leaves me food water and toys to play, Even so she’s gone and my days are gray. * Where we live their is no yard with grass, No fields of hay, or lakes with Bass. Only buildings with brick and windows of glass. The days are long and time slow to pass. * I eat and drink and watch out the window, When it’s time for her here, I seem to know. My hair stands up, my heart skips a beat, I jump off the chair and run to her feet .*
It seems that every few days, not sure I know, Why she doesn’t rush out the door to go. In the big chair she sits and reads while on her lap I sit and purr, Then watching TV together, she runs her hands through my fur. * But I know, again and again my Missy will leave, And again I will look out the window and grieve. So alas she tells me when she’s home it’s a weekend, And always and always on them I can depend. * Author Eileen Clark
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