Scotch Thistle
Scotch thistle bloomed for me this year so nice,
It thrives away somehow despite the ice.
It's hardy, tough to kill, and spreads its blooms,
As circled puffs with seed to where there's room.Its beauty – purpled flower with spiky stem –
Is loved by some – not farmers, now or then –
To me it's like that other side of me
This cultured mix of Englishman and Cree.I love it ’cause it thrives in dry or rain
When it's pulled out, from root comes back again;
It blows away defiant to be caught,
Regroups, then blows back from that vacant lot.I see it blow so gentle on the breeze,
Then silent give a cheer down on my knees;
Except for it and other ‘weeds’ today,
We'd have our way while others had to pay.I love the renegade, the thorny one,
Who makes us angry, helps His kingdom come –
They don't give up, they root, then flower, then seed,
And challenge us to see some larger need.They blow through life like Scottish thistle puffs
They drive us nuts, ’til we cry ‘hold, enough!’
But they don't stop, those wispy puffs from bloom –
Next generation prickles us quite soon.I'm not as wispy as those gentle types;
Don't travel far; not fervent for my rights;
But I press on down here beneath the soil,
Three feet a year, then sprout – it makes them toil.navigation