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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Home/Garden · #2272177
Weeds are flowers with attitude
The Trefoil or the Tree

Bindweed climbs azalea twigs
unfurling creamy blooms.
Winding tendrils wrap up leaves,
red blossoms are entombed.

Bursts of yellow flak appear
in dandy lawn formation.
Endless battle rages on
for landscape domination.

Blackberry spreads maliciously,
to catch and claw our shins.
White flowers become juicy fruit,
leave inky stains on skin.

Fleabane mimics daisy bud
with blossoms quarter-size.
Growing almost anywhere,
a lavender surprise.

Ivy vines creep up a fir,
green trefoils strangling bark.
Needles speak to unquenched thirst,
brown, skeletal, and stark.

Scotch Broom sweeps a dusty road,
waves yellow in the breeze.
Sinuses respond in red,
inflamed by allergies.

Thistle shows a warning sign,
keep a cautious distance.
Thorns surround the royal head
of purple-crowned indifference.

Emerald velvet on the roof
and seedlings in the eaves.
Orange lichen spots the deck,
bright moss drapes maple trees.

Nature serves up smorgasbord
despite what we regard.
Bounty, bane, and pestilence,
all found in our back yard.

Some praise the pretty petals
while others feel the pain.
The eye of the beholder
becomes the picture frame.

Beauty is a fleeting thing,
its source a mystery.
Who could ever dare to judge
a flower or a weed?

Author's note:

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