In praise of the Dandelion

    
Put down your hoe and knife    
Take up the lute and sing    
Taraxacum the Golden  !    
Penny-round, shining everywhere    
Loyal despite our scorn.
  
I walk the lanes and city streets,    
See golden flowers here and there,    
Long stems in country lanes,    
No taller than the grass    
Waving in the breeze.    
Short in tarmac pavement.
    
Changeless flower    
None to spoil the golden head    
No orange lips,as with the daffodil    
No silly names like "Chorus Girl"    
On plastic packets in the shop  
  
Wild-child of nature,  
Taraxacum for ever.    
Composite and penny-round    
Perfect in the rain    
Golden now and ever.
    
Sportsmen with their clubs and bats,    
Studded boots and stinking vests    
Blame you for the errant ball    
And blackened eye.    

As children home from school    
We blew away your time,    
Destroyed that perfect symmetry,    
Scorned to take it home to Mum    
For fear you wet the bed.    
    
Cut the stem, it makes a whistle,    
Take a root and you have coffee,    
Suck the honey from the flower    
Rosette leaves in salad    
Antidote for excess  port.    
    
Today it shines for us,    
yellow gold and willing,    
friendly with the daisy    
close as salt and pepper.