Dandelion: Poet Novels & Stories

She needed a cold shower and a few hours of rest to get her head straight. After all, the only thing she felt for her biggest rival was hatred. And nothing else. *** “And... That’s it!” Star Calibur smiled to herself as she finished running the pencil across the paper “I'm done! I wish it had been a little more angular, but I think it’s a good representation of taraxacum officinale.” “You and those strange names.” Her best friend laughed, a second before Virginia Bright jumped at once towards the ground, coming from the branch of the tree where they had previously been resting, with her long curly hair full of leaves “What's the problem with the name dandelion?”

she answered softly. I glanced at her, worried. “Why? Why are sunflowers your favorite flowers? I'd like to know.” “Ever since I was a child I've always loved dandelions because they are very… useful,” she said after a pause. “ Dandelion is very useful because it can be used as food for rabbits and other animals that are strictly herbivores and also it is very beautiful under the Sun. Also sunflowers are my favorite color so I'm not really drawn to yellow flowers.”

It seemed like every day was a beautiful day for her. Not long after, Edgar overtook Elissa. He retook the lead, guiding Elissa to climb in the direction Edgar had prepared. Then, when they reached the top of the sandbank, Elissa's eyes widened. She saw a field of newly bloomed dandelions. Right when she was up there, the wind from the sea blew quite strong, making the dandelion petals fly. "It wouldn't be complete if you didn't blow them yourself," Edgar said, holding out a dandelion tree.

Caspian was a gentle soul who found it easy to hold a conversation with someone of the opposite sex despite not being very close to them. Charlotte had been a surprise, though. “I’ll ask Charlotte when I’m back.” He had just finished his sentence when someone called out to Finn. “We’ve found something, Mr. Sanders.” Finn’s eyes widened as he immediately walked over to the monitors. Caleb’s breath quickened as well as he asked Finn, “What is it?” Finn frowned after taking a look at it. “It’s part of a poem. ‘Give the buried flower a dream; Make the settled snowbank steam.’ We studied this poem when we were in elementary school. I have no idea why he felt the need to write it down.”

"Maybe I can consider it before heading with my men to Maddox to give him the war he is so afraid of." His eyes danced around for a time. "Not to put a dent to her name, but have you not considered it strange that a lion appeared right after we found a Dandelion addressed as a gift to Lessia? Even the words rhyme. I suspect they're linked and they're some sort of twisted joke only the perpetrator would find funny." I knew what he was driving at. The Dandelion and the lion appearing at nearly the same time, did not seem to be separated events. But it all seemed to still point back at Maddox.

The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.

For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. - William Wordsworth

It would be going on because it was a nice poem to reflect on past things. This “Mandalay” poem made Lin familiar with the poet Rudyard Kipling. It was the benefit I got from reading the poem. I knew the poem and its poet was inseparable. If there was a poem, there would be a poet too. . . . This was just a memorable one and one could say that the event was successfully held at Pansodan Scene, and one could expect such kind of literary event to happen again in this art-scented atmosphere of the space here. Lin whispered, “James Joyce forever!”

"When they take out the old ones, they take their eyes. I was forced to watch. Forced to know what awaits me. If I am truly yours, come claim me. Come take me home. Or go. Don't haunt me with promises. I will not be able to see the flowers when they come for my eyes. I just wish I could remember why that makes me sad." "It makes you sad because you love how lilacs move in the breeze and the way the one tree whose name I can't remember, but anyway, its leaves look copper when the sun hits them just right. You see a masterpiece in a blade of grass or a single dandelion. You are my Doll, you speak for all of those flowers and they respond to you." Doll listened to the impassioned voice but he d

He sat feeling uncomfortable, he wondered what Sarah was up to. "Ryan, Incase I die, do not weep by my grave." "How...like what do you mean?" He looked at her perplexed. "Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.