By Toklas
Date: 26 March 2000

Thistle

Oh thistle mine, how you strike the grass
All angles and points
How  sharpen fools
And turn your bright, melodious eyes
Into small lies of softness.

How you execute the corners
Of a thought, twist a word
Into an ornery knot - I watch
What mischief you carry round
In handfuls of merry taunts.

But now your season is coming into night
You saunter off to dream  in contemplative pools
Wrap your wit in silky gowns of dew
In spiky humbleness your mind will drift
Like the leaf on a new spring stream.

Oh thistle mine, I watch you go
A tear for every step that takes you
Prickling and bristling on your way
All crusty in  your walk
All glory in your soul.