Plop plop plop
Dandelion seeds dwindle to the earth,
Painting the ground with dewdrops,
And hoof-prints, tread in mud, trickle away,
Pillbugs squirm in the new veiled way,
Drip drip drip
I wander to my leather boots,
To hop in a path anew,
Tick tock tick
Now dandelion seeds no longer plink against the tin roof...
The crashing, hazy tides roam on,
Thereby its wispy turmoil gone,
And peering through stained-glass skies,
The sun timidly smiles,
A thread of blue fractures the lands:
Between the speckéd trees,
And legions of warriored fantasies,
Of which the imagination amucks,
To ponder at what the eye has seen
Far away, and yet so near,
Apollo's arrows rumble clear,
And the distant dandelion seeds tap away,
Tap away,
Tap away,
Dropping from atop an oak tree leaf,
A singular dandelion seed beads,
And drips a lulling sigh.
YOU ARE READING
Of Dandelion Seeds and Lulling Dreams
PoetryWhat makes life so welcoming after the storm has passed?
