.
From the house, a father and son,
work together for the good,
a family - just like one.
They pull weeds from this perfect lawn,
so impeccable 'cept for me.
A lone weed - the rest gone....
They do this work and they never owe,
they feed and water just enough.
He mows - but lets me grow.
All the world's rules and every great law,
keeps them all busy and wind driven,
yet here I stand in awe.
Often I see father cut the lawn.
It's impeccable.
They pull weeds - 'til all gone.
The child stands near, so his father knows -
this priceless lone dandelion,
is the one that he chose.
Feeling naked as I look about,
one dandelion in a lush green lawn –
but through faith, not a doubt.
Though I’m ugly and so very wrong,
as the world creates rules.
Is this where I belong?
If grass could see, they'd scoff and sigh.
The son protecting me as-
the mower comes nearby.
Why stand I here for all to see -
imperfect on the father's lawn?
The son’s forgiven me!
All can see that I’m still a-livin'
alone here on this perfect lawn -
No, not perfect. Just forgiven.
©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ganderpoems.org
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