Fresh, open, and as innocent as daisies,
But with lavender rounded petals five,
They dot the roadsides, edge of woodlands, saying,
“It’s late spring and good to be alive.”
Unlike its contemporary, Daisy,
Its number of petals always is the same.
Plucking daisy petals, “He loves me; loves not,”
A different message each time may proclaim.
On its slim stem with abundant foliage,
It carries a message graciously sublime.
If ever you should choose to pluck its petals,
It tells you that, “He loves me.” Every time.
©2010 Carol Morfitt