Garland of dandelions

I dug and tore at the Earth with my bare hands,

In there I planted hibiscuses, crossandras, marigolds and jasmines,

for my beloved they are meant.

But grew profusely were dandelions, though I hacked at them and trodded.

Marigolds dried, hibiscuses withered,  

crossandras crumpled and jasmines wilted.

But the dandelions drank the light, rose to become Suns.

I watched as their blazing golden yellow 

crowns slowly bleach to a dead white haloes.

I strung these dainty puffs into a garland to adorn my beloved's neck.

Under His every breath the wisps shifted, danced and drifted

floating in ebbs on their journey towards a distant garden; 

those specks leaving behind a knotted noose around my beloved's neck.