The Dandelion means long-lasting happiness and youthful joy.
Clarrise was more real than reality in a way that made her seem to be above life and reality itself. She was in the world, but not of the world. Her body was on the ground, but her head was somewhere between the clouds and stars. What she said was always authentic. She was ethereal, softer than the earth could know. She had the confidence of a person who not just knew people would like them but would be unconcerned if they didn't. She possessed a heavenly grace that carried an aura of a free soul wherever she went. In a world often filled with corruption and arrogance, she was a light that darkness had to surrender. She was strong in a way that the dismal and iniquitous world could not break, yet delicate, sweet, and celestial in a way that was too pure to be tainted. Her soul was free and unable to be tamed. Her angelic presence radiated a love of something more than people could give her. She was youthful, carefree, and curious as if she drank every drop of the bright and colorful essence of childhood. Yet, she was mature, thoughtful, and outspoken. Her mind was a stream of thoughts and stories that ran freely through her mouth without a second thought as to why.  Her peace was that of white, sheer curtains letting a slightly sea-tinted breeze of fresh air through a window revealing pink-blushed clouds. She was to some degree, undescribable.

We are blind to the leaves of the trees
until they turn to brown
and die
...

drops of crystal dew
slide off emerald leaves
plants awaken and rejoice
the sun peeks out shyly
a fresher, crisper, cooler air
it seems no one else has breathed
something about the early dawn
makes me feel accompanied
and at peace

An escape is a desk
harry Potter, Shakespeare,
a quaint, cozy, spot
music in my ear
an escape is a pen
moving along a blue tier
running for your life is an escape
but the world is quiet here.

When people say "lost in a book"
few can know what it means
few are given the gift
to walk within the scenes.
To "get into a book" only takes a few pages
to step inside
and leave your body behind
and wish to never find your way back again.
To read is different to readers
those who have the gift
they do not remember concepts or words
no,
they remember where they have been.

The sun begins to dip below the skyline
Orange starts to tint the sunshine
Shadows stretch in shades of black
And the air cools as we ride back
-