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Flowers and Dandelions I look through my window Through my pane what I see Is I hate those that hate but they're looking back at me Yet I am the flower and they the weed although hard to tell apart the seed But the flower blooms before dy'in And the winds blow hard for the dandelion As the seeds of hate spread near and far The flower or the dandelion Doesn't care which you are. ****** I wrote this awhile back thought I'd change it a little and throw it out again. I need to keep reminding myself that hating is hating regardless of the reason. ******** |
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ET, The only difference between love and hate is that you can't make love grow! I try real hard with loving care to get my flowers to grow but they usually die. So if you can't kill all those damn dandelions, I suggest you try to love them to death. LOL
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10/17/2013 11:10 pm |
I eat dandelions. They are also part of some of the medicinal herbal treatments I make. Food and medicine - not weeds at all for me. Spiritwoman ^i^
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I like your analogy using flowers and weeds to compare love and hate. It would be wonderful if we could all strive to be flowers!! btw: Like my attitude towards people, I live in the country and have made my peace with the dandelions....live and let live!  LOL
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For those who easily tell apart the seeds of a flower and a dandelion. When my twolips move there must be a bulb, but where there's a bulb doesn't mean a light will go on. These are the seeds of my discontent! The pain through the pane is from the rain. The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain. It's amazing how do little, can do a lot.
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LOLOLOL....Jiminycricket!!! I like the way your mind works!!!! 
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Rocket, Thank you for getting it. I laugh a lot too, knowing how puzzling poetry can be, and that the mind works in strange ways...especially mine! I haven't a clue why I think the way I do, or how I come up with this stuff, and how without even trying it happens. I guess, I just have to accept that shit happens too! LOL
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Alpha, Let me suggest you throw some rocks at her, and take out your cane and hit her over the head. But before you do, say this.... Sticks and stones can break her bones, but only if her names can hurt me How dare she call you an old man! LOL
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ET It easy to forget we were young once. It's not so much different now than it was then I remember my grandmother a lot just because of the nickel she would give me, and my excitement when I saw her taking it out of her coin purse. I forget a lot about the other stuff, but some things never leave our mind. I was only five years old, and when I turned six, I never saw her again.
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