Petals plucked in time
He loves me; he loves me not
Anticipating
Seek daisy’s wisdom
But choose your flower wisely
Odd numbers suffice
A garden’s bounty
Yields answers; questions results
How dare blossoms lie?
(After I published this I looked back in my archives and discovered another poem I’d written with the same title. The original is better, I think, but it made me laugh. It was bound to happen sooner or later.)
Little white daisies
Sweet petals to pluck in play
He loves me, or not
Lovers of the light
Faces turned toward the sun
Bathing in its glow
Demurest blossoms
Woven in virginal wreaths
On a summer’s day
Spotted at Tallahassee Nursery, I call this one, “All You Need is Love, And This Gerbera Daisy.”
none of the cards on the stationery
aisle said exactly what needed saying.
they offered only sweet platitudes:
wishing you well,
sending our prayers,
hoping for a speedy recovery.
i wanted a card that named names and
kicked ass:
that sonofabitch needed hanging!
who the hell do you think you are?
you deserved that broken tibia!
with a picture of daisies on the front.
Peace, people.
