a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Sunday, May 19, 2013

The Mag 169

Magpie Tales with Tess Tincad presents a writing challenge each week at The Mag. Join.  Read.  Enjoy.
Eventually we know
A weed is a weed
And not wishes

We cannot refrain
From hoping
As we blow

Wishes
And seeds
To the winds

Wishes grow weeds
Lighthouses fall
As do we

I admire those
Who still dream
While I cannot sleep

25 comments:

LaTonya Baldwin said...

ah, the dreams are real. Don't be fooled by unreality. Paraphrasing Toni Cade Bambara. Thanks for the read.

TexWisGirl said...

quite sad.

Emily Rose said...

Lovely

Brian Miller said...

oy, losing the dreams is not a good thing...though i will say they are my fav weed...

martine said...

Clever moving from one idea to another and from weed to wishes and back again, very subtle, liked it very much.

Jinksy said...

But a weed is only a wild flower in the wrong place... :)

Dip-Dip and the Bridge said...

That is quite a sad poem, without wishes and hope, what have we got?
Lynne x

Berowne said...

Eloquent and rather stirring...

Deb said...

:(

Kathe W. said...

what's interesting is that dandelions were not considered a weed by the British who brought them to the Americam colonies along with the @#$^%! starlings. They cultivated them for teas and wine.
Cheers!

McGuffy Ann said...

My poetry book is called Weeds, and has dandelions on the cover. Weeds and weeding are important in life.

Lynne said...

Wise Deep Sad . . .
Once again . . .

LindaG said...

I agree it is sad.
*hugs*
You did well with this one, I think.

Irene said...

In the fields close to my apartment, there are lots of dandelions and I always make a wish when the dog's leash hits the flowers and releases the fluffy seeds. I must have made a 100 wishes now.

That is a lovely poem, Gail.

Kutamun said...

But are you awake or asleep ?
Weeds are iften pumps that bring up much needed nutrients from deeper levels via tap root to depleted top soil. Hmm, soil, soul, i admire them very much, and your writing too .

Saucy Kodz said...

Subtly written Gail - This goes deep and makes you think - I like the dandelion - mine grow wild in n aboot my yard - they are pretty - Jack seems to know when the fluffy seeds are ready to be airborn, for she wiggles the stems with her nose and chases them around the yard till they are too high for her to catch - I think she relates them to the bubbles we blow in the yard now and then.
The dandelion has been used as food and medicine for much of recorded history - however I notice more and more people hiring those pesky weed control guys to kill the "weeds", but have they ever stopped to think about at the same time what else they are killing - honey bees n other insects that contribute to our very life on this planet, just so someone has a nice GREEN lawn??
I liked this poem - I am sure it made a lot of people think deeply about it.

Susan Lindquist said...

My hopeful heart still wishes on the weeds that my weed stake spares ... I guess part of me has grown into pragmatic adult and part of me is still locked in childhood ... I set those wishes when I blow the seeds and then dig them up when they set roots - a sad irony.

planetcyberluz.com said...

I enjoyed your well structured poem, for me it has a melancholy feel of dreaming in and out of sleep. I remember collecting dandelions as a child in England, along with nettles. Both nutritious and make good tea:) If we were stung by the nettles we would look for a dock leaf to rub in the place and the sting would cease.

Sandra said...

i am going to ditto the wise, deep sad comment above. i like it and it says a lot in a few short words. i love dandelions and the blowing there of.

Willow said...

Beautifully witten, movings of a restless soul that once blew dandelion seeds into the wind ...ah yes and this too shall pass with the ebb and flow ~
You are such a moving poet Gail

Sue said...

I agree with Willow. It's the ebb and flow...the only certain thing being change.

And I also agree with her that your poetry is moving.

=)

Buttons said...

Oh I love to dream and I love to sleep. I like the poem. B

Susan Kane said...

Subtle and profound.

mindlovemisery said...

This is sad

If not life what have dreams to aspire to? Sometimes its not enough wishing we must create!

Tess Kincaid said...

Touching and quite bittersweet...

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