The DandelionOnce we sang of you; In the dear old school days, When our years were new. And we watched in spring time For the yellow heads That came gently peeping From the wintry beds. Dainty little dandelion, Don't you, dear, get mad, Just because the cities And towns now have a fad. Don't you stop your growing, Don't forget to bloom; Yes, I hear you saying, "There will still be room." Somewhere by the roadside, Somewhere by the brook; Somewhere in the pasture, If you take a look, You may see the yellow Blossoming each day, Making seeds for gardens A thousand miles away! Sometime, though, some doctor, With a heavy brow, Will dissect you, dearie, And will tell us how We can't live without you, Will tell us what you're worth; Then a pest will come along And wipe you from the earth! __Ed Blair |
Random Rhymes
Ed Blair
(Spring Hill, Kansas: New Era Publishing Co. 1939)
Page 112
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