what's interesting is that dandelions were not considered a weed by the British who brought them to the Americam colonies along with the @#$^%! starlings. They cultivated them for teas and wine. Cheers!
May 19, 2013 at 5:23 PM
Anonymous said...
My poetry book is called Weeds, and has dandelions on the cover. Weeds and weeding are important in life.
In the fields close to my apartment, there are lots of dandelions and I always make a wish when the dog's leash hits the flowers and releases the fluffy seeds. I must have made a 100 wishes now.
But are you awake or asleep ? Weeds are iften pumps that bring up much needed nutrients from deeper levels via tap root to depleted top soil. Hmm, soil, soul, i admire them very much, and your writing too .
Subtly written Gail - This goes deep and makes you think - I like the dandelion - mine grow wild in n aboot my yard - they are pretty - Jack seems to know when the fluffy seeds are ready to be airborn, for she wiggles the stems with her nose and chases them around the yard till they are too high for her to catch - I think she relates them to the bubbles we blow in the yard now and then. The dandelion has been used as food and medicine for much of recorded history - however I notice more and more people hiring those pesky weed control guys to kill the "weeds", but have they ever stopped to think about at the same time what else they are killing - honey bees n other insects that contribute to our very life on this planet, just so someone has a nice GREEN lawn?? I liked this poem - I am sure it made a lot of people think deeply about it.
My hopeful heart still wishes on the weeds that my weed stake spares ... I guess part of me has grown into pragmatic adult and part of me is still locked in childhood ... I set those wishes when I blow the seeds and then dig them up when they set roots - a sad irony.
May 20, 2013 at 7:39 AM
Anonymous said...
I enjoyed your well structured poem, for me it has a melancholy feel of dreaming in and out of sleep. I remember collecting dandelions as a child in England, along with nettles. Both nutritious and make good tea:) If we were stung by the nettles we would look for a dock leaf to rub in the place and the sting would cease.
Beautifully witten, movings of a restless soul that once blew dandelion seeds into the wind ...ah yes and this too shall pass with the ebb and flow ~ You are such a moving poet Gail
Magpie Tales with Tess Tincad presents a writing challenge each week at The Mag. Join. Read. Enjoy.
[Image]
[Image]
Eventually we know
A weed is a weed
And not wishes
We cannot refrain
From hoping
As we blow
Wishes
And seeds
To the winds
Wishes grow weeds
Lighthouses fall
As do we
I admire those
Who still dream
While I cannot sleep
25 Comments
Close this window Jump to comment formah, the dreams are real. Don't be fooled by unreality. Paraphrasing Toni Cade Bambara. Thanks for the read.
May 19, 2013 at 12:59 PM
quite sad.
May 19, 2013 at 1:28 PM
Lovely
May 19, 2013 at 1:43 PM
oy, losing the dreams is not a good thing...though i will say they are my fav weed...
May 19, 2013 at 1:45 PM
Clever moving from one idea to another and from weed to wishes and back again, very subtle, liked it very much.
May 19, 2013 at 2:23 PM
But a weed is only a wild flower in the wrong place... :)
May 19, 2013 at 2:45 PM
That is quite a sad poem, without wishes and hope, what have we got?
Lynne x
May 19, 2013 at 2:46 PM
Eloquent and rather stirring...
May 19, 2013 at 2:59 PM
:(
May 19, 2013 at 4:40 PM
what's interesting is that dandelions were not considered a weed by the British who brought them to the Americam colonies along with the @#$^%! starlings. They cultivated them for teas and wine.
Cheers!
May 19, 2013 at 5:23 PM
My poetry book is called Weeds, and has dandelions on the cover. Weeds and weeding are important in life.
May 19, 2013 at 6:23 PM
Wise Deep Sad . . .
Once again . . .
May 19, 2013 at 8:17 PM
I agree it is sad.
*hugs*
You did well with this one, I think.
May 19, 2013 at 9:34 PM
In the fields close to my apartment, there are lots of dandelions and I always make a wish when the dog's leash hits the flowers and releases the fluffy seeds. I must have made a 100 wishes now.
That is a lovely poem, Gail.
May 20, 2013 at 4:30 AM
But are you awake or asleep ?
Weeds are iften pumps that bring up much needed nutrients from deeper levels via tap root to depleted top soil. Hmm, soil, soul, i admire them very much, and your writing too .
May 20, 2013 at 4:55 AM
Subtly written Gail - This goes deep and makes you think - I like the dandelion - mine grow wild in n aboot my yard - they are pretty - Jack seems to know when the fluffy seeds are ready to be airborn, for she wiggles the stems with her nose and chases them around the yard till they are too high for her to catch - I think she relates them to the bubbles we blow in the yard now and then.
The dandelion has been used as food and medicine for much of recorded history - however I notice more and more people hiring those pesky weed control guys to kill the "weeds", but have they ever stopped to think about at the same time what else they are killing - honey bees n other insects that contribute to our very life on this planet, just so someone has a nice GREEN lawn??
I liked this poem - I am sure it made a lot of people think deeply about it.
May 20, 2013 at 7:10 AM
My hopeful heart still wishes on the weeds that my weed stake spares ... I guess part of me has grown into pragmatic adult and part of me is still locked in childhood ... I set those wishes when I blow the seeds and then dig them up when they set roots - a sad irony.
May 20, 2013 at 7:39 AM
I enjoyed your well structured poem, for me it has a melancholy feel of dreaming in and out of sleep. I remember collecting dandelions as a child in England, along with nettles. Both nutritious and make good tea:) If we were stung by the nettles we would look for a dock leaf to rub in the place and the sting would cease.
May 20, 2013 at 9:15 AM
i am going to ditto the wise, deep sad comment above. i like it and it says a lot in a few short words. i love dandelions and the blowing there of.
May 20, 2013 at 11:01 AM
Beautifully witten, movings of a restless soul that once blew dandelion seeds into the wind ...ah yes and this too shall pass with the ebb and flow ~
You are such a moving poet Gail
May 20, 2013 at 3:32 PM
I agree with Willow. It's the ebb and flow...the only certain thing being change.
And I also agree with her that your poetry is moving.
=)
May 20, 2013 at 3:38 PM
Oh I love to dream and I love to sleep. I like the poem. B
May 20, 2013 at 4:45 PM
Subtle and profound.
May 20, 2013 at 5:12 PM
This is sad
If not life what have dreams to aspire to? Sometimes its not enough wishing we must create!
May 21, 2013 at 12:40 AM
Touching and quite bittersweet...
May 24, 2013 at 1:57 PM