My choice to speak and dare to do
I share with other people too,
my own convictions – foul or fair
are seeds propelled in gifted air.
But even if my thoughts seem fixed,
with time or conversation mixed
they may be tempered, tinkered, turned
by what I heard, saw, did or learned.
So in my darkest/finest hours
when often I express my flowers
it is of boldness I partake
and I must know the mark I make.
aplaceforpoetry 
Thank you to David for causing me to ponder.
http://davidemeron.com/
Quite welcome. I often hear/read/am told something along the lines of “Who’s to say what [good/bad/evil/beauty/&c.] is…” I think perhaps we hear it so many times that we all repeat it. But the question has an answer. Many many decades ago….
I had trouble with this to start with. It seemed a bit lightweight. Then I read it again. I’m sorry i doubted you, Julia
Dandelions are light, but blow a long way 🙂
Oooh you’d be very disappointed in me if i hadn’t made the reference…
I never doubted you would… By the way, scientist, why is oil so good for getting knots out of hair?
Same reason it’s good for anything that moves. It’s a lubricant (arf).
When I used to spend lots of time in tropical countries, the first thing I did when I got back was give myself a hot oil treatment for my hair. I’m such a fairy. I’d fit in well with Storybook Girl.
Greetings, Julia! You write beautiful poetry… and your blog has quite a serene feel about it, I must say. Thanks for dropping by my den, and spending some time there. Looking forward to read more of you. 🙂
Best wishes
Tanumoy
Thank you Tanumoy, and welcome to my cave. I hope it is a cool refuge from the hot sun this summer 🙂
Ah, it’s a pleasure to be here. Cheers! 🙂
love it. the last line for me is ambiguous for me ( in a good way.) don’t know if you are insisting or hoping to know, or supposing that you already do know, but that it’s still a mystery “what you know…” I love metaphor!
There is no end to the mystery, is there? That’s what keeps me going, I think.
me2! just read a wonderful quote by Richard Wilbur in Gregory Orr’s book “poetry as survival:
“My first poems were written in answer to the inner and outer disorders of the Second World War, and they helped me, as poems should, to take ahold of raw events and convert them, provisionally, into experience.”
really hits it right on, for me!