Daisy

Every year the garden daisy reminds me of my old friend Annette who I've mentioned before in this journal. She was a deep thinker and tried to engage me, often I couldn't keep up with her, and our conversations could take rather bizarre twists.

Summer afternoons,
as long as daisy chains,
all pass you by.
Do I exist, you ask sleepily .
As long as the daisies do, I reply.
But so short-lived
and often picked before their time,
I hear you cry.

Think of the beauty they bring,
the soft-silk hair of the young girl
threading daisy-lives on her string.
Each separate
as well as joined by stems,
but here now,
last one links back
to the first,
circlet of flowers on her brow.

©sue2011

Today, sadly, I couldn't produce a little girl to make a daisy chain!


The daisy's name comes from the Anglo-Saxon meaning "day's eye," which refers to the way the flower opens and closes with the sun.

It symbolizes childhood innocence.

I don't know of any healing properties for this flower, maybe someone can offer something.