Romans & histoires Dandelion: Poet

Alyssa said, she stands up and wiped her tears. "What are you going to do Alyssa," Berk asked. "Don't worry friends I know just what to do," Alyssa says to Berk and Sally. 🖤 "I have just spotted another one" Darrell said to Pontius, then he plucks a blue dandelion. "Oh my God! They are endless" Darrell adds. "I am glad you like them," Pontius replied happily. "Of course I do, they are beautiful," Darrell replied with a blue dandelion on his hand.

Joseph replied and started singing, "And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine 'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine And I see forever in your eyes I feel okay when I see you smile, smile Wishing on dandelions all of the time Praying to God that one day you'll be mine Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time Dandelion, into the wind you go Won't you let my darling know? Dandelion, into the wind you go Won't you let my darling know that? I'm in a field of dandelions Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine And I see forever in your eyes I feel okay when I see you sm

6. Another week passed, and one day I smelled dandelions for the first time. I wandered closer to the fence. Beyond the slatted wood, dozens of the inviting yellow heads bobbed in the breeze over the bushy green of their savory leaves. My mouth watered as I stared at them. They were my favorite food in the whole world and this spring had been stingy with them. I stretched out, reaching for them, through the slats of the fence. This looked like one of the places where the winter had torn a few of the boards away and the Keepers had not repaired it yet. Perhaps they didn't know because this was below the hump of a hill. The mantras of my childhood fear chanted, but I ignored them.

“So, about that dandelion, how did you know it grows in this meadow? It’s the first time I saw it in person. And I come here every day and I don’t see any dandelions.” “I know because I am this meadows guardian.” “Guardian?” Lisa bursts into laughter. “That’s a good one.” John gives her a serious look. “You aren’t serious? Are you?” “The winds that travel the world guide the dandelions to new places,” John begins strumming the lyre creating a gentle breeze that sweeps Lisa’s hair. “I am this meadow’s guardian.” “Then, are you a spirit? A nymph? Like what it says in the books?”

He said and I looked around clearly, finding nothing more. “Well, I couldn’t see it…” I wrapped my arm around me with a stern look as I added, “And you do know that Dandelions close at night…” “Oh… I am not very familiar with the flowers…” He looked apologetic. “So then why doing this??” I questioned, keeping my hands on my hip in a bit of frustration. “You gave me a surprise, and I wanted to give you one in return… Oh, come on, Amy, I have been working on this for two days…”

Donald liked her inquisitiveness, anyway, and how she liked questioning everything to find out the truth. “I grew up, curious. It is part of me” “You like philosophy this much and even poetry” “I would have loved to study it. And for poetry. I like the sweet line of words as they tangle with human emotions” “That is their language,” Donald chuckled. “Lawns and Dawns. Twilight and Twelfth night. Panting and lamenting” she was bubbling with vigor. “You are composing a rhyme” Donald threw her a friendly punch “With this sweet voice”

I asked out of curiosity, I really want to know the next line. “Hmmm… I don’t really… remember as it… was just song… by the bards… but it goes… like this… “Easy comes, easy go's. A flower bed, a garden rose. Tress are dancing, wind is gushing. Birds are singing, snakes are grinning.” That is a weird poem, it doesn't seem to have any meaning. I kept wondering who the author was and what was in his mind when he wrote that. "Do you know who wrote non Droon?"

"Would you like to take a walk in the garden? The greenhouse is nice, but the outdoor paths are open to us today." "I’d love to," I said, closing my book. We walked out into the sun-drenched gardens. The air was crisp, but the sun was warm on my shoulders. As we walked, Darian began to talk about Southern poetry. "In the South, we believe that words have their own scent," he explained as we passed a row of blooming lilies. "We have poets who spend their entire lives trying to capture the feeling of the first rain after a drought. They use a structure called 'The Golden Verse'. It’s patterned, like a heartbeat."

It was as if he possessed a secret connection with nature, understanding its rhythm and being in harmony with its essence. Opening his eyes, Miles spotted a lone dandelion standing tall amidst a sea of feathery white heads. A smile formed on his lips as he plucked the delicate flower from the ground. Holding it gently between his fingers, he admired its seemingly fragile beauty. With a soft breath, he sent the dandelion's tiny seeds floating into the air.

Emilia grinned, "I find them my favourite plants. Don't you agree?" "Yes," Alice breathed, taking the pot from Emilia's grip. She inspected it carefully smiling. "They're my favourite plants too..." "I remember my science teacher calling it a 'Taraxacum erythrospermum' once. She had a right go at me because I would continue to call it a 'Dandelion,'" Emilia laughed, "Calling it a 'Taraxacum Erthrospermum' takes about a day to say." Alice wasn't listening to Emilia. She had gently placed the dandelion on the table and had started watering it, just like how Emilia did. She did it as carefully as she good, gazing at awe at the pretty plant.