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.

Hibiscuses withered, crossandras crumpled, 

marigolds dried and jasmines wilted.

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

When the time came, their blazing yellow crowns 

bleached to dead white bones.

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.