For Maya, Marguerite

When this prison was built for children
Florida tried to soften the blow
Allowing all those young ones to
Plant trees and flowers row by row.

The palms are standing tall now
Oak and ficus grow unbent
Daffodils and roses bloom by year
Soft their petals all a' tint.

The smallest of our flowers
Glows yellow and petite
Blankets all the prison grounds
Beautiful, our golden Marguerites.

Our tiny little daisies
Have spread both far and wide
Each bloom a bit of poetry
Pushing prison woes aside.

If you need some flower
To conquer your blues or curse
Plant a little bit of Maya
Marguerite enjoy them verse by verse.