Photo credit to Cate Kastriner
It all started when I heard on NPR that Crayola was retiring Dandelion as one of its crayon colors. Retiring a color struck me as an odd concept, but retiring Dandelion? Cheerful, plucky Dandelion, harbinger of spring, granter of wishes, sent out to pasture? It just didn’t seem right. Then, I read that Amy Ludwig VanDerwater was using crayon colors as inspiration for her poetry writing in April (here). What a great idea! So, I randomly pulled a crayon from my own crayon box, thinking it might inspire me in some way– And yes, you guessed it, I pulled Dandelion.
All of this got me thinking about dandelions which led me to pull out this treasured picture of my son. It melts my heart every time I look at it. Those sweet cheeks, the why-didn’t-his-mother-ever-cut-his-hair hair, the baby neck creases… and his one little hand carefully clasping a dandelion while the other hand rests open, filled with sunlight. All framed by a field full of brilliant yellow dandelions. Melts. My. Heart.
Thinking of him, the little him I miss so, and of my own memories of long ago dandelion-wishing days, mixed with thoughts about retiring, aging, and change to inspire this poem.
Dandelion
Your exuberant hue spangles the meadow
evokes the sweet, pressing heat
of lazy, fragrant afternoons
and the buzzing of pollen-dizzy bees
bobbing from blossom to blossom
in their mysterious, intricate dance
Your name conjures
the phantom touch of a small hand
long ago (or was it yesterday?)
presenting a wilting cluster
of starburst blossoms
with bent and broken milky stalks
love in a bouquet
Your toothy flowers burst with memories
of spring promises, childhood joy,
and gossamer wishes
cast on summer breezes
Perhaps we can trace our lost innocence
to the day we first scorned you
as a weed
Molly Hogan (c) 2017
The Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted this week by Doraine Bennett at her blog Dori Reads. Click on the link to enjoy some poems!
Nix the comfort zone 
Thanks for sharing the process for your inspiration for this beautiful, beautiful poem. You made my day.
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Thanks! Isn’t it funny how events can weave together and lead us to an unexpected destination?
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The granter of wishes describing the dandelion takes me back to Radburn park in Jersey where barefoot was the mode of transportation back in the day.
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Remember getting dandelion stems tangled between your toes?
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Dandelions rarely get much love – they’re always being sprayed, plucked or cut, so it’s lovely to see these humble, happy balls of sunshine celebrated for a change!
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They have strong medicinal properties, too. Here’s to dandelion love!
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Appreciations for this sweet photo, lovely memory, but also rallying cry for we, the lovers of the dandy lion.
It’s a gilded, story-gifting flower. Perhaps the first the most children clutch, as did your son.
I was going to say little flower, because those are the ones I most often see. But your photos shows a field of great, tall-to-my-eye, beauties. Long may the dandelion seeds flow in the wind.
I think I will rename all bright yellows in my color box, Dandelion.
An inspiring post.
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I’m with you on the dandelion rebellion front–henceforth, all my yellows shall be called Dandelion! 🙂 Thanks for stopping by!
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Oh my, that photo melts my heart too, Molly! It reminds me of a similar photo I have stenciled in my memory—my son (at a similar age) offering me a two handed fistful of frangipani blossoms which he collected off the ground and held so gently, like baby chicks. Your beautiful poem says it all.
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Michelle, I think there’s a poem in that memory you shared! By the way, I started this poem as an Ode to Dandelion in response to one of your challenges, but I couldn’t stick within the guidelines. I needed more than 5 lines to capture all things dandelion!
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Believe it or not, I’m just reading your comment now, Molly! Here’s the link to a haiku I wrote some time ago about the frangipani moment: https://michellehbarnes.blogspot.com/2013/04/my-garden-is-your-garden.html
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This is wonderful, Molly! I love that spangled meadow, the “pollen-dizzy bees,” and that sweet picture of your son. How do the years fly by so fast?
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Thanks, Catherine. The years are slipping by at quite a clip right now, aren’t they?
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This is excellent, Molly. And just when I think it can’t get any better, you give me the last lines: “Perhaps we can trace our lost innocence / to the day we first scorned you / as a weed.” I think you are right.
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Thank you, Alice. The last line was one of the first lines that came to me and made me realize how much I wanted to write this poem. I’m glad you enjoyed it!
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Oh, so much here to love! Dandelion being “sent out to pasture,” PICKING the dandelion crayon, your loving description of you long-ago son in the picture, and those last two lines — ZING.
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Thanks, Mary Lee! It was an interesting confluence of events–as the genesis of writing so often is!
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Such emotion in your description of your son. I miss those uncomplicated days, too, when wonder was taken for granted.
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Love that phrase, Brenda, “when wonder was taken for granted.” I so often find bits of poetry in your comments. You’re a bit like a dandelion yourself, casting gossamer poetry seeds in your wake!
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Such a fine compliment, Molly. I feel a bit dandelion-y some days. As if I might fray and break into wishes. XOXO
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Your poem melts my heart. I have a weakness for dandelions and love their bright yellow stars sprinkled across our yard.
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I am so looking forward to seeing the first dandelion of the season–spring is dawdling on its way to Maine this year!
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I don’t understand why the retirement, either, Molly. Dandelions are still the beloved flower of children. Your picture is wonderful, and I can see why you wrote from it, a treasure first, now the pairing too. I love “(or was it yesterday?)”. So true.
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Thanks, Linda. No one warned me that children graduating from college is harder than children leaving for college! It’s a very nostalgic time for me. I love my adult children, but how I miss those little ones!
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Oh my, heart melting in the extreme. And I do love dandelions. Who cares if they are weeds?
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It’s all in your perspective, isn’t it? Have you heard the saying, “The difference between a flower and a weed is a judgement”?
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Wonderful weaving! Beautiful poem! I love the picture, too. Together a treasure… all because of a dandelion.
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Thanks, Donna. Dandelions and children are a beautiful combo! (Somehow I just saw this comment now–better late than never! )
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[…] written about dandelions (to see a previous post and my favorite dandelion picture ever, click here). Every year they delight me more, and this year, it seems like there’s been a bumper crop. […]
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Gorgeous touching poem, and I love that pic of your young son Molly!
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Thanks, Michelle. This picture never fails to get me–wow, I miss that little guy and all my children’s younger selves.
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I missed this one, first go round, and it is so precious a post, Molly-picture and poem – lovely!
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Thanks, Carol!
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