Poetry Archives

Little bud Dandelion
  Hears from her nest,
“Merry heart, starry eye,
  Wake from your rest!”
Wide ope the emerald lids;
  Robin’s above;
Wise little Dandelion
  Smiles at his love.

Cold lie the daisy-banks,
  Clad but in green,
Where in the Mays agone
  Bright hues were seen.
Wild pinks are slumbering,
  Violets delay—
True little Dandelion
  Greeteth the May.

Meek little Dandelion
  Groweth more fair,
Till dries the amber dew
  Out from her hair.
High rides the thirsty sun,
  Fiercely and high,—
Faint little Dandelion
  Closeth her eye.

Dead little Dandelion,
  In her white shroud,
Heareth the angel-breeze
  Call from the cloud.
Tiny plumes fluttering
  Make no delay,
Little winged Dandelion
  Soareth away.