First eye to morning sun.
She loves me; I eat those.
She loves me not; drop those to rot.
First-rate, bone flower,
her capitulum bends.
Skirt once closed, gladly opens,
and I treasure her adoration,
her heliotropism.
She’s been well-sown.
Low maintenance,
she germinates on her own.
Everlasting, witty,
a touch pretty,
my common lawn sweet,
ready for bedding,
my lady, Margarite.
© 2022 | K.Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Mmmm, so delicate and sweet, the feeling I get. Like walking in a well manicured lawn, that lovely summer grass soaked by the garden hose. I think 💭💕
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Thank you for this lovely comment.💜 There are so many blooms in the spring, sometimes I think we forget to appreciate them all. But then we miss them and their accesibility.
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🌸😊
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A very poignant and tender piece ❤ – beautiful sensual imagery interwoven here, K! 🙂
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Thank you kindly, Tom. Most of the natural bloom has passed her, but there are some species that linger. I enjoyed daisy-picking and letting my mind wander.
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How beautiful this emotional writing is! ❤
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Thank you. 💜 Elevates the daisy, I hope.
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I love the lyricism of this, the effusion of images, and hey! I learnt a few new words 🙂
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😊 thank you, John. Do you have lots of wild daisies in Adelaide?
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not that I’ve noticed,K ; but I;ll be on the lookout 🙂
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Delicate and sweet. Lovely!
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Thank you, worms.
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The flow is lovely, as is the language you’ve chosen. Beautiful poem, K. 💜
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Thank you, Jeff. I think I really was able to savor the bloom this year, for the first time in a long time. 💜
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You’re welcome, K. Always. I’m so glad you were about to savor it this year. That’s wonderful. 💜
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Wonderful personification.
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Thank you. Daisies are definitely in here.
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