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