Daisies
Daisies are the friendliest flowers
That grow beneath the sky.
They nod and wave for endless hours
To every passer-by.
When on the hills in early spring
Their happy faces smile
In answering to their beckoning
I'd journey for a mile.
I put them in my crystal vase
With baby's breath and rose,
And they assume a stately grace
As any flower that blows.
They laugh and whisper through the days,
When night comes on apace,
I seem to see in star-bouquets
A daisy's smiling face.
By Laressa Cox McBurney
Published in 1938