How I used to make, when as a child so young, <br />a daisy chain, by hands that were so neat, <br />And around my neck, it was so very carefully hung, <br />those blooms with sunny centres, so petite. <br /> <br />The pleasure was to me so charming and so fine, <br />and wandering through them was a joyful treat, <br />A sea of white, so startling, so refreshing, so divine, <br />like a feast of new laid snowflakes, 'neath my feet. <br /> <br />They may have been known only as just a simple flower, <br />and yet they shone with luminous resolve, <br />They carried neither, height, nor strength nor a mighty power, <br />and yet over thousands of years, they did evolve. <br /> <br />Such a carpet of pretty heads, that in them, I carefully knelt, <br />their faces beaming up, caused me to gaze, <br />Upon their display of perfection, such emotion then I felt, <br />that I'll love every Bellis Perennis, all my days. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-simple-flower/
