GOLDEN FLOWERS

Golden flowers in her hair,
Oh God why did she pick those things?
Little yellow pods starting to split,
Dropping the seeds all over the rug.
Emily had adorned herself with golden rods.
Now my nose was starting to tickle...

For some reason beauty means something different to her.
Left with a choice she picked a weed.
Of course the flowers are bright, but
What a job to get rid of the seeds from the rug.
Earlier she said she was going to bring me a surprise.
Right she was! Surprised I am, but happy.
Shrugging I tell her how pretty she looks.