Dandelion Innocence

Summer days, and warm skin, 

Children with blushed cheeks 

And I see you in technicolor. 

Long strands of grass brush limbs

That lay under the bright sun, 

Eyes burn red from overexposure. 

Soft breathing mixes with

Distant birds chirping in their nests,

Dreaming up stories of your imagination.

The grass smells sweet, 

Honey and ginger,

And a timid baby's-breath. 

The dandelion’s are well grown

During this time of year,

Please don’t say that you are too old

To make a wish.