Little flower –
Of green and gold, a drop of sun in shower
You smile so bold yet I am told art weed stead o’ flower.
Dipped in dew you spring anew as your roots grow vast and deep
within a fold of earth to hold your soul within its keep.
A wind wandering waif a wildflower whose soul ‘tis willful ‘tis true
may it have been my sin to try to hold on to you.
For I tried to touch your heart yet you would never stay.
as the winds arms of whimsical charms
would always sweep you