8 05 2013

Upon a showery night and still,

Without a sound of warning,

A trooper band surprised a hill,

And held it in the morning.

We were not waked by bugle-notes,

No cheer our dreams invaded,

And yet, at dawn, their yellow coats

On the green slopes paraded.

We careless folk the deed forgot;

Till one day, idly walking,

We marked upon the self-same spot

A crowd of vet’rans talking.

They shook their trembling heads and gray

With pride and noiseless laughter;

When, well-a-day! they blew away,

And ne’er were heard of after!

Helen Gray Cone




3 responses

8 05 2013
Heidi Viars

yep… they just invaded my yard 😦

9 05 2013
D. Raymond-Wryhte

One hundred and thirty years ago, I daresay,
Dandelions weren’t the oppressors of today.

18 09 2015

I remember this poem from the “Child Craft” books I read as a child!

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