2–3–6/ 5–3–3/ 3–1–6/ 5–3–6

Tossing the Dice to Happiness

Twelve rolls direct the growth of the daisy poem

Joyous The Shasta Daisies by the Bistro

That we call our own Paradise — Our garden.

From nothing In Winter not long ago.

Just soil so brown, Snow secured, Hiding what soon will grow.

You loved Those daisies When you were a child.

Next to the milkweed In your yard. Your Eden.

Youthful play, You Picked the petals wild —

A game, done for love So alone, But ne’er meek or mild.

You would Crush the seeds That made your palm yellow

Then blow on the seeds, Counting them For the name —

The number For Your ensuing fellow.

If three seeds remained You would fall For a Chris so mellow.

Tonight You told me This tale for the first time.

When I asked you why You so loved Those flowers.

It was no Crime To reserve the sublime.

For how many seeds Would it take To ‘W’ to climb?

Back then, Twenty-three Seeds would cling to your hand.

What a whisper that Would take, love, To bid me.

Such a man — Would You even understand?

The black to your white — Moon to sun — The ocean to your land.

Summon Me, you did On wild winds that spring.

A dance in April — The seeds just A spark then.

Lovers new — But Soon the oath and the ring.

Daisies for our guests — Endless seeds — For what beauty they bring!

(Gunnen: Dutch: Finding happiness in someone’s happiness because you love them so much).

Thank you for reading! Special thanks to buddy Dan Norbury for the dice suggestion. Read more from Paper Poetry from Walter Bowne:

PS: Editorial Note : Paper poetry conducts themed poetry series every month. This month’s theme is of Dutch origin, Gunnen: If you want to be a part of this, kindly read this.