Wild Flowers Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Many years ago, I was a small child…
Solo walks in the fields, made me smile.
I admired lovely flowers that grew in the wild.
There were no neighbors for miles and miles.

Next to golden fields of dry stemmed grain
Were three leafed clovers with tuffs of pink.
Under an oak tree, violets grew by the lane.
Wild flowers gave my visual thirst a drink.

Tiny petals huddled to crochet the Queen’s Lace.
Black-eyed Susans danced in the cow-pied pasture.
Jack-in-the-Pulpit had a turned collar with no face.
A calm creek gave life to delicate irises on the tour.

Now, I live in a sub-division with houses side by side.
The only wild flowers that appear have sunshine hues.
Fences of wood and some of chain territorially divide.
Stubborn dandelions send parachutes simply to amuse.