With lip-focused breath from a whiskerless face
A young boy blows dandelions into space.
Like snow they sweep over edged green blades,
Spreading o’er the yard’s undulating grades.
Thinking he’s an artist creating great art,
He pulls more dandelions to puff apart.
Nature’s patterns exhilarate our boy;
He sees his backyard as his personal toy.
Now nature is loved, and dandelions, too,
By kids ignoring their chores to do.
Our boy wishes to have just one more blow,
But again momma calls; so he’d better go.
Robert L. Porter, Jr. is a retired entrepreneur from several industries. An early lover of poetry, he restarted his postponed writing of poetry a decade ago and has just begun seeking publication. Primarily a rhymer, he writes on personal experience in life and love. He is humbled by the wonderful works published in today’s contemporary free style journals.