The north wind
cannot
shake me,
for I'm rooted
in my ways.
Strength
and
Independence
disguise
Brokenness
and
Pain.
I am
the dandelion.
Forever
here
to stay.
Unless,
of course,
you're
the gentle
breeze,
Come to
carry me
away.
Author notes
thought about calling this one "Blow Me"...decided against it ... marciakay81
A contest entry
- PW Party by Blooming Poet.
300 points, ended May 23, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Short Poems About Anything (PW welcome) by Intricate Wordsmith.
550 points, ended May 28, 2008, 54 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Prewrite only by kitty23.
470 points, ended June 6, 2008, 68 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Your best work (Quickie). by jocelynclaire.
300 points, ended June 9, 2008, 34 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Prewrites- READ THE SIMPLE RULES. by She Stole My Voice.
300 points, ended July 28, 2008, 19 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
-
Nice looking Gold,
for this nice reading piece of poetry.
Short, sweet and to the point.
Very well written.
I enjoyed a lot.
loveandblessings2u & yours always
Joyce
-
'I am
the dandelion.
Forever
here
to stay.
Unless,
of course,
you're
the gentle
breeze,
Come to
carry me
away."
-So innocent and sweet;
just might win :]
Thank you for entering.
♥
~Princess of Shadows~ -
-
thanks for the gold! most definitely unexpected.
-
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wow i like this one alot it's great i love the stanza about "The north wind cannot shake me, for I'm rooted in my ways." Great job Thank you for entering my contest and sharing your poem with me keep up the great work Kitty23 :)
-
I like blow me, I still blow those things and make a wish, dandelion puffs that is, LOL
you touch on one of my favorite flowers,
so proliferant, so hated,
so lovely to view,
a herald of springtime,
signs that summer is due,
let's see if you like butter,
on a bright sunny day,
lift your chin,
over dandelions,
then holler, "Parkay!"
Each Mother's day past,
I would pick her a bundle,
in a ball round my hand,
as a gift oh, so humble,
and they'd sit in a jelly jar,
till they withered and fell,
out the window they'd go,
but mom's love always jelled.
Lovely write.~~~Artis
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lol,can just see some mod complaining about that first idea.
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loved the last stanza Marcia
JUST SAW AUTHOR NOTES LOL -
Cute
I like it x
-
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thanks.
-
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