In the early morning when my baby just wants to play by himself and laugh at the fact his hands are attached to him and can find things, I sit half asleep and write some lines for the writers' posse over at Studio 30 Plus. Ideas pour, but I am tired, so I will just leave these two poems, using one of the prompts this week: dandelions. View more by others by clicking on the icon below. Thanks for reading. Soldiers They stand poised but burnt, Like old dandelions, war Scarred in a new world. Untrodden A summer moon hangs On fields of dandelions Where no one has stepped.