I Dandelion
You may think me a bit of a tease,
from generations scattered on a breeze,
bringing sunshine wherever I grow.
Sharp-toothed like a lion, my dark leaves hale
and hearty, it’s an old wives’ tale
that they make you wet the bed.
My petals open at seven, close around four o’clock;
you can tell the time by my silent tick-tock
as my seeds drift on the wind,
fairy parachutes, each one a moment,
my tiny embryos are potent
in propagation as they take root:
silent Ninjas turning fields and leas
yellow, to the joy of bees.
***
I Rosebay Willowherb
I set wasteland and railway banks
aflame with rangy ranks of fireweeds;
my neon-pink spikes illuminate
ditches and dykes, seduce moths and bees,
releasing clouds of fluffy seeds
from my ostentatious spires,
spreading beauty in windborne fires.
All the while my creeping roots
and rhizomes advance like troops, shoots
invade gardens, giving rise
to cerise fireworks against the twilight sky.
Kim M. Russell, 9th April 2026


On Day Nine of NaPoWriMo, our optional prompt is inspired by the poems of Marianne Moore, a modernist poet, who wrote on many themes, including poems about – or in the voice of – animals. Our challenge is to write poems in the voice of an animal or plant, or that describe specific animals or plants with references to historical events or scientific facts. I’ve taken two old poems and rewritten them in the voices of two of my favourite wildflowers.