On my morning walk today
I met the respected presence
Of a Ring-necked Pheasant
Waiting in the driveway..
 

I trodded this lane so quiet and pleasant
Keeping in step with the gentle pheasant.
Alas!  but he would soon alter his course,
Gaining speed as he flew ahead to lead
  On a road less traveled thru' the weed.
 

Greeting us first was the Common Mullein
Who normally wasn't so solemn or sullen;
To retort in a tone strident with distaste
"The bull thistle is a TOTAL DISGRACE
He is picking on Queen Anne's Lace!"

Along the side of the grassy path 
We spied a bit of sassy wrath...
The bristled purpled Bull Thistle
Pursed his prickled full lips,

To blow his stinging whistle
In cursed' wicked snippets,
 So to bow the lovely face
Of  Queen Anne's Lace!

As we strode past the mean thistle's rift
With the modestly shy Queen Anne's Lace.
We hurriedly started to quicken our pace;
When a curtain parted to reveal indeed
 Honorable merits of a real pistil weed
To at last give spirits a much needed lift! 

We witnessed the star shaped leaves,
From some of its wildest cucumbers,
   Link thin vine arms divine by God to plead,
In words known to their faith and creed.
While they hurled to scatter their seed,
They marched to pray in humbled numbers
For a world of Love and peace.

At the end of our walking exercise
My friend, the ring- necked pheasant 
Offered to bring a selected present.
  He said, "turn your back whilst I fly away;
Then open your eyes for my big surprise."
 

When I looked again,
the pheasant was gone;
And in his place
was a perfect weed; 
Encircled in a ring
of star- shaped leaves,
Was the loving face of God!

© Andrea Jeanne Petersen
 August 12, 2002