Wild Petals

Dandelions push through
the rotted breast of
an abandoned home
with giggles of sunshine.

From a stony bed just beyond
the rubble a sickly rose taunts
about death and petals
that command attention.

But summer’s wild petals
don’t care where they blossom.

They are mother earth’s
gypsy children scattered
by the wind to grow bouquets
where desolate needs a garden.


Sanaa Rizvi said…
Wowww! This is incredibly evocative, Susie!💝 I especially like; "But summer’s wild petals don’t care where they blossom." Thank you so much for writing to the prompt!
indybev said…
I think I will always think of your poem when I see dandelions. Great write!
Jenna said…
I like the "giggles of sunshine." That's a perfect metaphor.
Oh, I love the idea of weeds as gypsy children!
Kim M. Russell said…
I love those ‘giggles of sunshine’, Susie, they are indeed ‘gypsy children scattered by the wind’. My favourite phrase this week is ‘to grow bouquets where desolate needs a garden’.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
I love everything about this poem...especially the gypsy children.
richard said…
very good. thank you for another great poem.
Rommy said…
I love the merging of resilience and joy here. Those giggles of sunshine will go where they please, and thank goodness for that!
Love the giggling dandelions. Wildflowers always win out.
Jim said…
Susie, you wrote this one for me!! Dandelions are one of my favorites, I still pick a bouquet of them most Springs. I liked the Gypsy Winds chosing where they would grow.
Thank you for peeking in, I'm sorry to be late in returning your call.
A number of small children's first bouquet of flowers to their mothers are a handful of dandelions. Several local wineries make dandelion wine. I think that is about it for usefulness of these weeds which tells us that there's almost always something good that can come from just about everything.