Hold Dandelion Hill (poem) by Phyllis Jean Green on AuthorsDen

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Hold Dandelion Hill
by Phyllis Jean Green
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Not rated by the Author.

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Recent poems by Phyllis Jean Green
•  Listen to Your Muse, Then get up an' do Your Thing
•  Poem an Inside Job
•  Vicks, Flannel, and Great Expectations?
•  Rumor January 19, two Thousand Thirteen
•  Snow Night with Bird
•  Gunned Down
•  Fought Tooth and Nail, I Know You {for Ellie}
•  Shape Shifter
•  Night-Light
•  We are Here to Tell You
•  Simple, Really
•  Telephoneitis Syndrome
•  The Watcher
•  From Your Grateful Mate Pea
           >> View all 483

The cancer piece I plan to post will have to be in a small font {to keep the format, which I feel is particularly important re 'Mushrooming.' Doubt many of you will feel it is worth the strain. Tho't perhaps this would be to more to 'y'all's liking. {Shorter, if nothing else.} ~~ To dredge up a dated expression, I'm a bit hepped on
dandelions, yeah. ~~~~ For the Dandelion Lovers Out There. . .and in my H e a r t ..............=

A grassy knoll was simply that
– a hill, a climbable sponge
that tickled and teased summer-
freed toes and feathered
an aerie
a genie coaxed from Aladdin's lamp
for the earth angels
little devils like us
formed by angling bodies
our mothers despaired
were half naked or worse :
just look at your elbows/
knob knees/ unwinding braids/
cowlicks/ spaghetti
joints more Amazing-Unbelievable-
U-Will-Not-Believe than Barnum
and Bailey's star acrobat --
and they were dandy lions
and we were the best of friends.
Proud that we knew when to pounce
and when to be still
as a baby toad in a flower pot
that's had all the lumps
it thinks it can take.
Sun crowned every one of us gold.
Frazzled and sweaty added shine.
Glittering beads starred by tadpoles
imagination had trying to get the hang
of swimming high but lying low
upon spying a line with a hook.
Ruffs fluffed and growls rehearsed,
we grew close to warm ourselves
brave enough to climb high
and plant our green and yellow flags.
We were always
going to try.
We were never
going to suffer
the pangs of a coward backing down.
Loyal to a fault, cat-naps wired
even more volts. Even one dandelion
spoils, a slick article says.
Because it isn't neat?
Won't stand in line? Could be
because it's free.
Love any weed to a flower. . .as you see.

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Reviewed by Sheila Roy	11/23/2009

There's a delightful feeling of innocence in this poem. It reminds me of hunting bees during school recess with my clog. I was just a kid. I'd never crush them now like I did back then. lol. Hugs, Sheila




Reviewed by Regina Pounds	9/2/2006

Pea, here's a glass of dandelion wine fo you...and a gentle wind to help you blow the seeds while making a wish... Loved the poem, love the dandelion, and... thanks, gina




Reviewed by Regis Auffray	8/18/2006

Thank you for sharing your unique and worthy take on "things" Pea. Love and peace to you, Regis




Reviewed by Tinka Boukes	8/14/2006

Ditto Felix!! The small font can be changed by the reader by going to view at the top and select lager font and the page will be changed immediatly...and you can go back to the normal size when done!! Love Tinka




Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner	8/14/2006

I concur with those below, Pea, this is exquisite metaphor and poetry. BRAVA, my friend! ((((HUGS)))) and love, Karla.




Reviewed by jude forese	8/13/2006

excellent metaphor ... and they go well in salads also ...




Reviewed by Tami Ryan	8/13/2006

Yeah, it's tough to make 'em stand in line when they don't wanna, hunh? (winks) This'un is sure deep. Good thing, cuz I love 'em like that. You got it gal! Thanks! Thousand o' hugs to ya! Tami




Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)	8/13/2006

Dandelions make great wine too. Golden nectar.




Reviewed by Felix Perry	8/13/2006

This seems like a lovely write that reflects on the past not with the pain of loss but with the love of living. Life is but fleeting but memories of those fields are forever and keep us forever...young. Fee




Reviewed by Nordette Adams	8/13/2006

Enjoyed this nostalgic and spiritual write, Pea. You have such a unique voice. Vivid and alluring. ~~Nordette




Reviewed by E T Waldron	8/13/2006

Superb metaphor Pea...would that all of us could nourish weeds into flowers! Best to you! ET




Reviewed by M.Bennett Hooper (Mikii)	8/13/2006

Loving this piece as I can relate it to foster children formerely abused (weeds) who must be loved into a flower. It made me think of one in particular of a friend who is a foster mom. This is beautiful and a keeper. Peace, and blessings. <Mikii>




Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)	8/13/2006

Hoo-boy . . . Dandy Lions . . . Gotta love it . . .




Reviewed by George Carroll	8/13/2006

Wow wish I could carry a poem with the verve for a flower that you have.




Reviewed by Mr. Ed	8/13/2006

Even one dandelion spoils, a slick article says. Because it isn't neat? Won't stand in line? Could be because it's free. Love any weed to a flower. . .as you see. Since I happen to like dandy lions, I love your post, Phyllis. And maybe I do like them because they are wild and free. While most of my neighbors wage their hideous annual chemical warfare on them, I, too, sit in the grass, and marvel at them. I'll take wild and free over neatly in line, every time.

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