Marie Mazel and the Marigolds

There once was house that sat high on a hill,

It was owned by a family and a dad named Bill.

The grass grew wild and needed a mow,

The days were too hot just so you know.

Marie Mazel was eleven and it was known,

That she loved the marigold flowers and being alone.

She spent days in the garden reading thrilling tales,

About exotic animals and astonishing whales.

Marie Mazel studied history, literature, and art,

She dabbled in design, crafts, and poems of the heart.

The days seemed endless and she felt lost,

But would she let friends into her secret at what cost?

She would have to let them smell the flowers,

And run for hours.

They would want to read her books,

And then she might give them mean looks.

They might argue politics or talk too much,

Maybe they will want to dance, sing, or such.

If the sun is too strong,

They will want to sit in her shade and that is just wrong.

What will happen if they step on her roses,

Or get stung by a bee on their noses?

What if the lemonade isn’t enough for them?

They will want to eat all her food, even a flower stem.

How do you find such friends?

She will have to make up a flyer or postcards, it just depends.

Will she have to leave her precious house?

Would she have to pick out a new blouse?

Impressions are everything and now was the time,

To leave the home and it wouldn’t be a crime.

She walked down the hill,

And through woods and felt a chill.

She zippered her coat,

And jumped in a boat.

Across the lake,

There was no mistake.

She found a town,

With roofs that were all brown.

She saw kids playing in the street,

They were nice and sweet.

They started following her to the mall,

Where other kids were kicking a ball.

They linked arms and off they went,

To a bookstore where other’s time was spent.

The kids in the store were glad to see them,

And they followed Marie Mazel to her clandestine gem.

Over the mounds,

With chasing hounds.

They ran fast

And at last,

They were at the colossal hill,

And it was a high climb to will.

They scaled to the top,

And took a moment to stop.

The sun was setting and it was getting cool,

They were tired and need a stool.

The kids rolled down the slope,

And they could have fallen off, but they had a rope!

The house was lit from afar,

And the dad was playing his guitar.

They joined him on the porch,

And sang songs about the torch.

Marie Mazel took her friends to see her garden,

And didn’t say “I beg you pardon”.

She was happy to have to pals,

And was one of the gals.

They chased the fire flies.

But soon they all got tired eyes.

It was a fun day with lots of cackles,

And the boys played football with lots of tackles.

They drank lavender tea and had frozen dessert,

They rolled around the yard in all the dirt.

Marie Mazel’s smile was stuck on her face,

This is what she was missing in the first place.

She was delighted and cheerful to have such buddies,

She didn’t at all miss her studies.

It was a fun adjustment to her usual days,

And from now on she wouldn’t go back to her old ways.

But it was time for her friends to go home,

And say goodbye no longer to roam.

Marie Mazel hugged her friends and invited them back,

Now they were her new pack.

After they left, she laid down in her field,

Marie Mazel picked up a marigold flower and she felt healed.