I see softness and so much creamy white fluff with just a hint of girlish pink, that surely there can be no mischief here.
Or can there be?
I once was a pink thistle grand.
With thorns and leaves to scratch a hand.
Alluring in bloom,
Forbiddingly stark in the gloom.
And when my flower was done
Thorns and all dried in the sun.
Like tribble I became
To fluff and puff and claim
This world to conquer, my only aim!
Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.
We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.
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