I just love pansy flowers, and so did my Dad.
how I love his face!
How I'd love a dress like that,
all in silk and lace.
Pansy all in velvet,
purple, brown or yellow.
How I love your smiling face,
such a cheerful fellow.
A basket o'er brimmed with blooms,
smiling all together.
All those colours in joyful hue,
you brighten rainy weather.
And when your little seeds you scatter,
all along the border,
tiny little pansies grow,
in glorious disorder.
In France they call you "pensee,"
and this is very fitting,
my thoughts are often filled with you,
no matter where I'm sitting.
If anybody's garden,
shows fancy plants and not your face
it really is a crying shame,
a national disgrace.
My father loved geraniums,
all scarlet in their hue,
but he also loved your jolly face,
and for this I do thank you.
He loved the black and yellow ones,
and so the seeds I save.
I plant a pot up every year,
and take it to his grave.
The pot of smiling flowers,
I tenderly do place,
and stand and think of him awhile,
like yours, a Golden face.
Poetry by normalil
Read 685 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2007-05-15 at 22:44
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Pansy
How I love my garden pansy,how I love his face!
How I'd love a dress like that,
all in silk and lace.
Pansy all in velvet,
purple, brown or yellow.
How I love your smiling face,
such a cheerful fellow.
A basket o'er brimmed with blooms,
smiling all together.
All those colours in joyful hue,
you brighten rainy weather.
And when your little seeds you scatter,
all along the border,
tiny little pansies grow,
in glorious disorder.
In France they call you "pensee,"
and this is very fitting,
my thoughts are often filled with you,
no matter where I'm sitting.
If anybody's garden,
shows fancy plants and not your face
it really is a crying shame,
a national disgrace.
My father loved geraniums,
all scarlet in their hue,
but he also loved your jolly face,
and for this I do thank you.
He loved the black and yellow ones,
and so the seeds I save.
I plant a pot up every year,
and take it to his grave.
The pot of smiling flowers,
I tenderly do place,
and stand and think of him awhile,
like yours, a Golden face.
Poetry by normalil
Read 685 times
Editors' choiceWritten on 2007-05-15 at 22:44
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Rob Graber |
