You over took the plants-

                  You over took the plants like a war at Penzance.





Strewn the weed you are, standing tall

amongst the rest with pride.

Nothing can undress you in your stride.

Growing with every new shoot all

captured the love you grew, the sun,

the rain, the dread every force winds you have outdone.

You came to mature with life's simple rule, a run

of light, water, and pure soil being your bed

and every night you closed your head.



One summer came by, warm and

dry and lack of rain.

The grass bed became a flame,

slowly it took hold hook and eye

attaching to your stem, soul releasing,

the grief and sorrow deceasing.

The soothing soil increasing,

killing the flame, fresh shoots sprout again

you the dandelion, vain.



Scatter your seed leaving me the world

to see, just a seedling, dandelion

mixed and hurled amongst a million

blown with the wind fast round I swirl

slowly I tipple towards the ground

landing being placed safe and sound.

This being the place I have found.

Here I will grow my seeds and spread

dandelions across a grass bed.