The Dandelions

a poem by Ash sarge, USA

The winds pick up the seeds,
And scatter them cross the sea,
An effort, by mother earth,
To share beauty.
I push away the shadows,
Only good waters, allow.
I let my mind slow,
And I watch the dandelions grow.
Out past the hazads,
Of wrong and right
Out of habit, I help them fly,
A moment of magic,
Flash back to when I was young,
Before the subjects,
Turned tragic..
Yellow is the color of hope,
I watch the dandelions grow.
Blue, is the color of waters,
And it's water that holds,
Our feelings, together,
Blue is the color of my eyes.
New life,
And happiness,
Is the colors of the sunrise.
The warmth to the seeds,
Sowed by the earth.
And see what I've always known
And watch the dandelions, grow.

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