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Watching Dandelions Grow

by Janet Reid
Above me, the sky is painting
in swirls of grey and white
on a canvas of the brightest blue.

In the distance I hear the symphonies
of Chopin and Strauss
played upon the rustling leaves

and in the fields the gentle breeze
plays catch-me-if-you-can,
chasing itself among the hay,

while swallows gliding lazily
hang suspended like puppets
on strings we cannot see.

And me, I lie here dreaming
flat on my back among the grass
just watching dandelions grow.

Selection 4 of

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Copyright © 2003 by Janet Reid. All rights reserved.