I thought that goldenrod made me sneeze
When it was nudged by a gentle breeze.
Now I’ve found that it just isn’t so,
And I’d like for all the world to know
It took the blame for the awful ragweed,
That spreads like wildfire by its tiny seed.
That sturdy stalk with its head of gold,
With arms outstretched as if to enfold
Each passerby who gaze in awe
At the waving fields of gold topped straw.
No comments:
Post a Comment