These gentle obsequious winds
Have created Ray Florets' wings,
From cadmium yellow to light goldenrod,
Keep on missing the dandelion's bud.
Craving for cozy palms
And inevitable nostalgic balms,
Ray Florets running round and round,
Alone and nowhere to be found.

Dancing with all the blows,
Don't know where to go.
Doesn't even know,
That white is sad so,
'have already grown.
Now flying to the unknown,
To the scariest forest,
Leaving the field of finest.

Still 'keep on looking back,
Indeed the sun's wishing with all the luck,
To wrap you up,
For the crestfallen to stop.
And may your downfall
'one of a kind that you can call.
And when you finally rest,
Hope it's for the best.


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