Dandelions to Babes

blog, Poetry 1 Minute

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Out the door, I pick up the pace.
Time to play…no time to waste.

Down the yard, tightrope the curb,
As I zipped up the road, not a “hello” was heard.

Along the path such a pretty site,
Dandelions, Dandelions like a sea of white.

Where did I go you must be starting to ask,
to my childhood friends where my youth was passed.

T’was her mother who greeted me each time at the door,
a humble sweet lady who I will always adore.

I will miss your dear smile for the rest of my days,
miss my best friend’s mother, miss the Dandelions to Babes…RIP

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Mildred Organ

Published by Ash Douglas

Writer, Poet, WANL Member, Paralegal, Miawpukek First Nations, GymLife, Runner, Bike Writer, & Pun Enthusiast. I like my puns intended. ✍️ “I don’t claim to be a great writer, but I’m enjoying the journey of becoming one”

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13 thoughts on “Dandelions to Babes”

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