I wrote this poem some time ago, but was reminded of it when I heard some folks talking about those pretty purple flowers in the country ditches.
Pretty Posies
While riding in a car one day
With my city friends,
We drove out to the country
Where the beauty never ends.
We came upon a hillside
Of flowers bright and bold.
Thier comments on those posies
Are just waiting to be told.
"We sure would like to gather some"
They said, "Just for the seeds".
I, so silently answered back,
"Take all you want, they're weeds."
They stopped the car and argued,
"Should we go get some or not?"
"They'll surely never miss a few,
Cause there are such a lot."
So I waited by the car for them
As I did cheerfully whistle.
Those poor old city friends of mine
Had gone to gather thistle.
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