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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