Little Kari is all grown up now but she still loves gone-to-seed dandelions!

KARI’S ADVENTURE

 

Gently,

Softly, the fluffy white dandelion fuzz

Rose slowly

Into the bright,

Pleasantly warm,

Mid-morning sky.

 

A few clusters clung to the bark

Of the towering old Silver Maple

With its leafy three pronged crown,

That dominates

The corner of our country patio.

Deftly, the other seeds escaped

From under its shady canopy

Then drifted over the waist high wire mesh fence

On their merry way to new homes

Where they would volunteer more dandelions

In the wood lot and old pasture adjacent to my

childhood farmhouse.

 

With great joy

Little Kari squatted

and then grabbed another “dandy lion”

In her chubby fist.

She giggled.

 

Kari leaned forward

As if to kiss it

And blew once more.

 

This time she danced

And jumping jacked in place

As she watched the seeds sail off.

Tickled to and fro

As if skipping to the tune of their own dance,

By the warm

Sun-chased updrafts,

The dandelion seeds

Made their grand exit.

 

With the wind so light

Their parachute jump

Won’t take them far today.

I read somewhere once

That on a windy day they can end up miles away.

 

We watched Kari

Drop the ugly green

Stem onto the grass,

Stare at it briefly,

Then look for another.

 

She tugged at her pink skirt,

Then rubbed the red heart

And blue teddy bear that was embossed

On her white blouse.

Kari searched among the yellow spots,

Which dot our lawn.

 

Called  Taraxacum by the ancient Greeks

And Dent-de-lion or lion’s tooth,

In archaic French,

Those weeds that look like flowers

Have definitely conquered the grass.

 

Grandma boiled them for greens

And Grandpa turned them into wine.

I just mow them down.

Suddenly Kari stopped

Just as she was about to reach for another

Gone-to-seed dandelion.

 

Kari  pointed at our neighbor’s

Frisky golden retriever, Lexi.

As it barked excitedly

While chasing a striped gopher

Across her master’s yard.

 

“Doggie! Doggie! Doggie!”

Kari squealed as she turned to look at us

With her large, expressive, gray-green eyes.

“See doggie?” she asked.

 

Then Kari waltzed swiftly onto other thoughts.

She pointed at the charcoal grill

Which puffed fragrant meaty drafts

Of Black Angus beef,

That was setting our taste-buds a hankering.

 

Pointy finger poking the air

Kari frowned.

“Hot.  Hot.  No touch.  I hungy!”

 

Children are a magnificent gift

And great responsibility,

But with our love and patience

They are none-the-less

Wonderfully beautiful little people

Full of both

Delightful and not so delightful surprises.

 

WTO 11.30.11