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)