Pushing up daisies is just my speed.
I'm mother nature and I feel the need,
to procreate.
I feel the need, to plant the seed,
that'll last for a millennium.
To lie in wait, until conditions are right,
to burst forth with all my minions.
To heal the scars of landscape Mars,
and shatter all pessimistic opinions.
For I am the mother of all invention.
I work my ways without intention.
But through the power of natural selection,
and survival of the fittest.
I turn bland to rich, and rich to wonder.
I do not pillage. I do not plunder.
So don't mess with me...
... or you will be pushing up daisies.
Photo by Dean Weir
More Poems
My Place
Read War's End, the
Novel
Copyright
2008 © Ronald W. Hull
8/16/08