6 Dandelion Poems

The dandelion is the first flower of spring. Read these dandelion poems for thoughts on this bright yellow flower. Some people refer to it as a weed, however, when you see that first dandelion it is the hope of spring.

Garden Poems    |   Dandelion Poems



  1. To The Dandelion
    Poet: Lowell


    Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,
    Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
    First pledge of blithesome May,
    Thou teachest me to deem
    More sacredly of every human heart,
    Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam
    Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show,
    Did we but pay the love we owe,
    And with a child's undoubting wisdom look
    On all these living pages of God's book.



  2. 	I know the sun is somewhere, shining clear. And when I can not see him overhead, I try to be a little sun, right here!
    Sunshine Poems


  3. Dandelion
    Poet: W. B. Allen


    A dandelion in a meadow grew,
    Among the waving grass and cowslips yellow;
    Dining on sunshine, breakfasting on dew,
    He was a right contented little fellow.
    Each morn his golden head he lifted straight,
    To catch the first sweet breath of coming day;
    Each evening closed his sleepy eyes, to wait
    Until the long, cool night had passed away.

    One afternoon, in sad, unquiet mood,
    I paused beside this tiny, bright-faced flower,
    And begged that he would tell me, if he could.
    The secret of his joy through sun and shower.
    It seemed, he looked up brightly as he said:
    "I know the sun is somewhere, shining clear.
    And when I can not see him overhead,
    I try to be a little sun, right here!



  4. Flower Poem
    Flower Poem


  5. The First Dandelion
    Poet: Walt Whitman


    Simple and fresh and fair from winter's close emerging,
    As if no artifice of fashion, business, politics, had ever been,
    Forth from its sunny nook of shelter'd grass—innocent, golden, calm as the dawn,
    The spring's first dandelion shows its trustful face.



  6. First To Appear
    Poet: Catherine Pulsifer


    To some, a dandelion is a weed
    But this flower has many seeds
    The seeds are scattered by the wind
    Much to some people's chagrin.

    But the dandelion is the first to appear
    Sending the signal summer is near.
    When everything is dark and dreary
    The yellow flower seems so cheery.

    The next dandelion you see
    See this flower as pretty
    Remember your childhood days
    You pick them for your Mom in May!



  7. Little Dandelion
    Poet: Helen Louisa Bostwick


    Little Bud Dandelion
    Hears from her nest:
    "Merry-heart, Starry-eye,
    Wake from your rest."
    Wide ope the tinted lids,
    Robin's above!
    Wise little Dandelion
    Smiles at his love.

    Golden-haired Dandelion
    For her sweet face,
    Anywhere, everywhere,
    Findeth a place.
    High on the rocky ridge,
    Low by the run,
    Bright little Dandelion
    Winks at the sun.

    Brave little Dandelion!
    Falls the late snow,
    Bending the daffodil's
    Haughty head low.
    Under that fleecy tent,
    Careless of cold,
    Blithe little Dandelion
    Counteth her gold.

    Gay little Dandelion
    Groweth more fair,
    Till dries the morning dew
    Out of her hair.
    High rides the thirsty sun,
    Fiercely and high;
    Faint little Dandelion
    Closeth her eye.

    Dead little Dandelion,
    In her white shroud,
    Heareth the angel-Breeze
    Call from the cloud.
    Tiny plumes fluttering,
    Make no delay;
    Little winged Dandelion
    Soareth away!



  8. Dandelions, like all things in nature, are beautiful when you take time to pay attention to them. June Stoyer
    Flower Quotes


  9. The Dandelion
    Poet: Kate Louise Wheeler


    One day, in spring, I took a walk
    And spied, within a field of green,
    A slender dandelion stock,
    Upon whose top a flower was seen.

    Soon after, passing by the place,
    I noticed that the flower of gold,
    Whose stiffened stalk had lost it’s grace,
    Was turning gray and growing old.

    To-day, upon the self same ground,
    I see a stalk undecked and spare;
    The flower that once was golden-crowned,
    Has lost it’s gray—it’s head is bare.

    How like a child is this gay flower,
    With golden hair and graceful mien,
    Which comes to brighten many an hour
    And add a charm to dullest scene!

    But soon the golden turns to gray
    And middle life comes on apace;
    The gray then hurries on its way,
    And old age comes to take it’s place.


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Catherine Pulsifer

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We hope these poems about dandelions help you see this flower as more than a weed!



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