O DANDELION, rich and haughty,
King of village flowers!
Each day is coronation time,
You have no humble hours.
I like to see you bring a troop
To beat the blue-grass spears,
To scorn the lawn-mower that would be
Like fate’s triumphant shears,
Your yellow heads are cut away,
It seems your reign is o’er.
By noon you raise a sea of stars
More golden than before.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Vachel Lindsay's poem The Dandelion

2 Comments

  1. Lindsey says:
    February 26, 2005 at 11:25 am

    Again again very good!

    Reply
  2. Lindsey says:
    February 26, 2005 at 11:10 am

    The poem is great, a very great kind. The poem has its own..it’s own mind!A wonder it hasen’t had more comments, a wonder its this old in time!Sweet poem, its great, and I’m able to debate.

    Reply

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