Monday, May 23, 2016

Tumbleweed Contessa Poetry: © When I Was A Child

© When I Was A Child

I called her yellow and she
danced with the breeze,
her head bowing and nearly
touching a carpet of green.

she stood straight once again,
her face to the heavens. Face up,
she smiled at me as I stooped
to pluck her from the ground,

as if she were a small gold finch
or a tiny, singing canary, with
a quick swoop of my hand.
There you are, my dandelion.

But, those bright eyes the color of
buttercups or daffodils pleaded
not to hurt her and force her
colorless blood to flow, and

she promised if I waited,
white and silky, wispy wings
would sprout, yellow would fade;
then I could pluck her up,

close my eyes to wish as
I faced away from the breeze,
and then blow on her, I could
watch her dance on the wind.

but when that day arrived,
she appeared as clouds around
the moon or a lace collar and
I decided I would keep her.

Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved

 (picture #2, painting Of Dandelions and Dreams by Jimmy Lawlor)
(picture #3, 
Marie de GARAY - 1861-1953, Catching Canaries, oil on mahogany panel)
(picture #4, dandelion - Angela Bartlett, Colored Pencil)
(all paintings, drawings, photos not attributed to any artist do not belong to me and are the sole property of their individual owners)


  1. pure joy :)

    i recall, when we were kids, we used to hold dandelions just below each other's chins to see the yellow reflected there....

    1. thank you laughingwolf :)
      yes, and rub them on the back of hands to see the yellow and make "daisy" chains and wear grandmother said she use to eat dandelion greens.

  2. Replies
    1. :) and thank you, Martin, for taking time to read