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The Dandelion
The hearty dandelion has much to bear.
Neither lawn nor garden welcomes it there.
Any place it appears it's a vagabond…
A sad creation of which no one is fond.
How is it that this plant of such ill repute
Has the stamina its enemies can't dispute?
It's poisoned, weeded and still breeds;
Awash with a head of transcending seeds.
Tragedy rests with this golden flower
As it awakes with each spring shower.
A world so needy, but yet so rude
Cares little about its vast use as food.
poem
by
Gregory Huyette
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