Random Poetry

Of Dreams and Dandelions

Dreaming is a field of Dandelions.

In the spring they are everywhere.

You can run through them, picking and choosing the best ones for your bouquet.

You can have as many or as little as you want at any time, and they are all bright.

Bright and joyous they sprout up as far as the eye can see.

As the seasons progress, some of the dandelions change into white fluff.

You still try to pick enough for a bouquet, but some of them dissolve into the air as you run past, or try to pick them.

Then the seasons begin to change from summer to fall.

There are no more of the bright dandelions.

You may find the odd one hiding under a bush, but it is pale and short.

They have all become the white fluff that can not stay.

In desperation, you try to catch the fuzz as it floats away on the wind.

In the end, there are no more real dandelions,

Only the empty stalks, waiting for the next spring.

**********

Be who you are, not what others want from you.