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.