Purple Daisies Poem by Natasa To

Purple Daisies

In a meadow washed with amber light,
purple daisies flare like sparks of night—
violet flames on slender green,
the brightest blooms the grass has seen.

Their petals shimmer, silk and thin,
while drops of morning cling within,
each one a tiny crystal bright,
catching the sun in shards of light.

A warm breeze combs the meadow grass,
and all the purple flowers pass
from nodding stillness into song,
their velvet faces dancing along.

Above them, clouds drift soft and white;
below, the earth is deep and bright.
Bees hum low on golden wings,
while butterflies brush petaled things.

And as the sunset stains the sky
with coral, rose, and burning dye,
the daisies turn their purple heads
toward fading gold above the fields.

Then twilight gathers, cool and blue,
and stars begin to glimmer through—
while purple daisies, tucked from sight,
hold little pools of fading light.