Nightshade
Aye, you know
I'm poison.
I'm famous for that.
And I'm common green except
for those little blue blossoms
that come out later in the year;
And I'm not much to look at, I'll
give you that.
But with me, you know what you're getting.
As for Lilly of the Valley--
all white petticoats and purity with
a sweet virginal scent--
but she doesn't advertise her poison,
Does she now?
Everyone plucks her
to fill their houses with
her gaudy odor,
but never Nightshade,
No, for her it's
"Pull her up by her roots and
toss her on the compost heap!"
Lilly of the Valley
Think of white gingerbread
houses and lace curtains,
kitchens of cream
and dark blue, or
a shiny mohogany table with
a doily in the center
and bunches and bunches of
me in a big crystal bowl.
Think of your long-dead grandmother
alive again as she once was
in her print dress
sitting with a cup of tea
at that very table in your mind.
Sure, Nightshade, I'm poisonous
in several ways, but I hope
no one plans to eat me.
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