Their shadows, teasing his eye.
Sounds overcoming his breath.
Excitement roars in his ear.
A little old man stooped over with cane
blinking tears mixed with cool rain
this country trail has seen torture, some pain
from little boy to grown man
skinned knees to shaky hand
holding seeds and walking near
her laughter, he can still hear
clouds are pushing, holding the storm
tall grass clears, revealing their forms.
Daisies are blooming all through the night
with the flowers they are obscure from fright.
Fingers digging, finding only fresh dirt
he remembers, her feet, sweetly peeking from under her skirt
where were the words to her song
with another she belonged
his love was to protect
never hers to select
all her little stones lined up in a row
he is the soldier that loved her babies as they rested below
safe from the man who means to do them in
until he joins them, he will always see them ascend.
Up springs stems, up springs petals, up grows his daisies
protecting her babies.
She is beauty,they are a joy,smiles a man who defeated the evil mans ploy.
This time…..They dance with the little man who planted the daisies to protect them from the curse, special seeds selected from her purse.
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