The Dandelions

I broke the dandelions’ fragile stems
That loved to brush against my legs and feet,
And taking all my worldly wealth in gems,
I travelled London’s dark mysterious streets.

I walked the roads of Soho day and night
And revelled in each pleasure-giving gem.
I loved beneath lust’s satiating light
And ripped apart the swelling bosoms’ hem.

My money spent, a wind whipped down the sky
And hurled the huge clouds to a “winning” pitch.
I heard the dandelions begin to fly –
Their seedlings rising from each earth-brown ditch.

And how I missed them on my legs and feet,
And how I longed to watch them soar and flee
Down cloud-paths, lovelier than London streets,
Racing past cities to the fertile lea.

I rushed the tempest from my streaming eyes
And ran the miles that wound towards their throne.
I turned the corner – with a wild surprise
I saw them crushed, and could not find my home.

By Jonathan Finch
Twitter: JonathanFinch12