Walking in Daisy Fields.
Countless daisies shooting up,
Interspersed with buttercup.
A blanket white with yellow speck.
My footfall crush the tender neck
Of fragile life that strives to grow
Despite adversity unknown.
Yet they prosper where they are
Each single one no other knows.
Nor speak, nor see, nor hear,
But touch in gentle breeze
That often blow.
What message sent or tussle settled
At each caress of tiny petal.
Order rules this mass display.
A short time here then gone away.