This morning I painted a dandilion I'd seen.

Already to be blown by the wind;

and taken airbourne ready to seed.

Even its etheral quality amongst the green.

For all colours and etheral flatters green reed.

Tick tock as time and the elements sweep by;

so dandilion is dispersed till it is elswhere seen.

Creations wonder, however, can they call them weed, 

their healing powers we need.


by Anita Griffiths


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