There is someone
Sitting in the daisies.
She isn’t a girl
Any more.
She’s nearly a woman.
Very young.
Sitting in the daisies
Saying it.
Saying the verse.
Over and over
Picking off the petals
Plucking them
One by one
Daisy after daisy
Saying the rhyme
Like a mantra
Or a prayer
Until she gets it to stop
at the right place.
He loves me.