Dandelion: Poet Novels & Stories

The poem went this way, Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I did 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 uprising rush Oh quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.

Everyone seemed to disagree. "Are you planning on divorcing him?" One of the women in the restaurant asked. "No." I quickly replied. We weren't even together. "I have a song that will remind you both of your love." Jenna volunteered. "Do you know how to play this song?" She paused to recall the lyrics. "Dandelions, dandelions were all around us. Oh, they shone, oh, they bloomed, bright just like us. Now, I see their petals drying, spring is here. I can see them withering..."

I sighed, and used the tree trunk behind me to pull myself back onto my feet. I doubted that there would be any obvious dandelions in the meadow, so I jogged back towards Wildflower Way. There were more likely to be clusters of dandelions there; at least I hoped that there would be. As I strode through the meadow grasses, I unfurled the note to look at it again. I frowned as I read it. Perhaps I had been too hasty; I thought that it could also mean the sun. Did stars turn white at any point in their long lifespan?

The air was alive with the ethereal fluff of dandelion seeds, carried by the wind like tiny messengers on a mission. Seated in the middle of the meadow, I plucked a dandelion, and its seeds swirled around me like ethereal fairies. Daniel's voice whispered, "The dandelion has chosen you. Make a wish." With closed eyes, I silently wished for the enduring prosperity of our kingdom and gently blew on the delicate seed, watching it float away. When I opened my eyes again, I noticed Daniel watching me attentively. He approached and sat in front of me, his gaze unwavering. His eyes sparkled, and I yearned to understand his thoughts at that moment.

I just came up with it. As if! Did that old geezer seriously think that Cassian had never read "The Wanderer"? Riven Quill, the author, was the one who wrote that damn poem! What a shameless old geezer! "Isn't my poem amazing?" Dunley continued with a grin. "Yeah, yeah. It's pretty decent," Cassian replied perfunctorily. "I just came up with another poem! This poem is titled 'In Search of a Hermit,'" Dunley exclaimed.

Soon after he entered his chamber, Danyel wrote a poem; pouring all his emotions into the paper and using his brilliant skills at poetry. ~ Why does it feel like raining? While I still see stars, Is this my heart who’s singing? The beat was never so fast, What was it she did to my mind? I feel the emotions dance, Thousands of answers to find, But I won’t lose this chance, Obvious- that I love her, But isn’t all these too soon? I’d live to eternity with her, Who is as beautiful as the moon~

“How did you find that garden? I’m pretty sure half of my staff don’t know that there’s something like that behind the maze.” I rolled my heavy eyes as I wiped my face. “I was just taking a stroll through the maze and found myself there. Besides, why would you even hide the best flowers in the world behind a maze?” I blurted. “So you like dandelions?” Jonathan asked and my eyes lit up. “Of course! Who wouldn’t love such a magical flower?” I said gleefully. “I’m pretty sure if I was a flower, I’d be a dandelion!” The words rolled out of my mouth with ease and then it hit me.

, I said and smiled as he pulled some rumpled yellow dandelions out of his pocket and gave me. “Here, to a beautiful miss. I picked them on my way to this festival and stuffed them in my pocket. They’re so beautiful, he said and giggled. “Oh honey”, I said quite moved. “This is so beautiful”, I said and opened my arms for a hug and he wrapped his little arms around me. “Do you like them ?”, he asked as I released him from my embrace. “Of course I do. I love dandelions. You’re the sweetest kid ever”, I said and pulled him in for a hug.

Master Graden had a collection of poetry books in his home library and she had read them during her free time. The poem was titled, "A Red, Red Rose" composed by Scotland's national poet, Robert Burns. It described the poet's deep love for his beloved and promised that his love would last longer than human life and even the planet itself, remaining fresh and constant forever. The words were so moving and Melissa felt her heart warmed instantly.

“Remembers, my lady?” Audrey said, her voice distant with memory, “I told him dandelions were my favorite because they grow wherever the wind takes them — never too proud for any soil.” Greer sighed dreamily. “If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.” Astrid groaned. “If this is love, it’s exhausting.” Their laughter followed her quip, light and melodic. But when Elijah drew a folded parchment from within his coat and held it out to Audrey, the laughter faded to hush.