Sometimes
it seems there's nothing wrong
with crushing daisies
but your special trick inspires
more than you can erase;
it doesn't pay to be
a martyr for pansies, but
I hear your bouquets put on
quite a show.

Sometimes
it seems there's something wrong
with falling flying colors
and the dainty cross collides
with everything inside your
goldenrod gospel, your
hemlock creed—
maybe it's time to let the vines grow
wide.