This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
There is no deadline on posting,
you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
Write and you are a writer.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Just a Weed?

Photo by Jessica
Visit Jessica's 365 Day Photo Project Blog
Suggested Prompt...
Write a poem for a dandelion.
I have always thought they are more than just a weed.


morganna said...

Your bright yellow face
Shining from the grass
Makes me smile.
Good to eat,
Good for bees,
I think I won't pull you today.

cross-posted at

Simply Heather said...

just a weed
is what they call me
they don't realize the importance of
just a weed
made purposely by the creator
by the creator of all living things
even they
knowing my own purpose as many
if only for this one
a smile

just a weed
creates much joy
to one who appreciates life
even more so
just a human

Cynthia said...

We were all born equals
Under the Sun's mighty gaze
Reaching towards the Heavens
Through our young, naive days

We lived together in peace
With the Moon's loving glow
Sleeping safely knowing
Our Mother Earth was below

We grew fast and spread quickly
With each gentle seed
Until something greater than us
Called our kind a Weed

How the Great Ones deciphered
Whether we should live or die
Is still unknown to us
And we still wonder why

For we were all born equals
Even these beings and we
Perhaps some day they will look down
And see...

ammon said...

To Love a Dandelion

Tho flower fair did free thy lips,
A kiss most precious dear;
Sweet nector life's begatten drink
Did bathe thine angel's hair.

Bold colors of the Orient,
From glen to pasture green;
For once wilt thine affections give,
Upon this simple weed?

His Hand be known in birth and death,
As lark and butterfly;
Is He not in thy beauty fair,
Just as a sparrow's fall?

By flower fair thy passing wept,
To mark a life well-spent.
Wilt mine the only heart be still;
For love, alone I wait.

-ammon treasure

Monica Manning said...

When I was but a wee young thing—
no more than five or six—
to mother I would often bring
a bouquet that I’d picked.

I offered weeds with heads all bent;
a wide smile on my face.
She always knew how much it meant,
and placed them in a vase.

Now she’s gone and every day
I pray that I’ll be brave.
And every week I stop to lay
dandelions on her grave.

Dani said...

Oh my goodness, Laura Jayne, I don't know how you're going to pick a favorite among these- What great writing, everyone!

Dani said...

A long skinny body
Stretched from beneath the soil
With tiny yellow petals
Facing the sun, so royal

Two chubby, pink fingers
Pinch it, pull it, prick it
Two round, brightly shining eyes
See not a weed in the thicket

Short, round legs
Run unsteadily over the green
A smiling red-lipped face
Presents the flower to the queen

christine said...

Humble golden treasure
Lying at our feet.
Amber jewels bedeck the lawn,
'Mummy, it's so sweet!'

The flower heads make a heady wine,
Dried roots, a 'coffee' drink.
The blanched leaves enhance a salad,
A diuretic in the sap.

A humble little weed, you say?
A pharmocopia it seems.
And pleasure for the children,
As they tell the time with seeds.

Kate said...

You're a stubborn little
flower, pushing your head
through concrete cracks,

seeing the sun, staining
girls' fingers black,

obsessed with rebirth,
once black, once gold,
once white as snow.

No longer harsh, or stained,
but soft. She blows,
and white parachutes fill
the wind, to remind:

all things can be made new.

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sachin joshi said...

Dandelion(flower), more than just a weed:
Why haven’t you looked beyond me being just a weed
If you can, deepen your gaze and you shall see
And, if you can’t, I welcome you to consume me
And I shall take over your senses
Make you lost into a parallel universe
And let go all that constricts your imagination
Help you connect with your subconscious
And be one with yourself
So that your mind and your body
Can, for some time, be at one place and not scattered all over the place.
(an attempt to write)