Falling Florets

 Marigold’s smiles are all worthwhile

        she likes to dabble in heartache

Unbeknownst to the unabated

         vigor is not shined upon but fated

          to end with boxes at a door

Her fiery red-orange bursts of life

       give root which might

       distract a certain type

No genus or genius 

     could narrow her attraction  down to some 

       lucky few

       she lands anywhere she wishes to

I could only hope to catch her golden gaze

       and wait until plucked petals 

       fall

     til then this scrappy weed shall prepare

      for her siren call