A Gardner’s Challenge

Natural
Summer

A summer Poem

Children blow on my puff ball crown

and watch my feathery seed

float gently to the ground.

Proudly I wear my yellow hat

for all to see

as I mingle amongst a field of green.

Gardeners flame

and curse my domain

as I sit amidst a lawn so trained.

I am an herb, a plant , a weed,

I am the trinity

that will flourish for infinity.

By Richard Smith

Comments are appreciated
Criticism is welcomed