In summertime they meet,
Sat down by the walk.
they sit close, whisper and greet,
Sat between gray rock.
Sat down by the walk,
The dandelion stares.
Sat between gray rock,
They ask their friend how he fares.
The dandelion stares,
Up at the oak,
They ask again how he fares
And nothing else is spoke.
Up at the oak,
The tree stares down,
And nothing else is spoke,
Only silent chatter in small town.
The tree stares down,
As the wind comes faster,
Silent chatter in the small town,
Says the dandelion is beautiful as an aster.
As the wind comes faster,
And the weed begins to sway,
The dandelion beautiful as an aster,
The dandelion, slowly, blows away.
And the weed begins to sway,
And the oak is left standing tall.
The dandelion, slowly, blown away,
The friend disappearing with Fall.
