It was cloudy, rain in the forecast, so I carried my umbrella with me on my Morning stroll. The green landscape was broken by a Ribbon of color, yellow blossoms hugging the Pond where the weed killer apparently Hadn't reached. I suppose they are weeds, but on the Farm we called them buttercups. I couldn't help myself. I veered from the path and picked a Handful of the yellow blooms and carried Them home like a child excited to gift her Mom with a clutch of dandelions. I arranged the posies in a tiny vase and Placed it on my shelf where I can Enjoy my buttercup bouquet. It's a collection of weeds to some, but in My eyes a bit of beauty, a sweet gift from My Father to me. (And I didn't need the umbrella.) |