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Mullein

 Generous as a lamp post, mullein holds court. Larger than the smaller, its language starts gently, rising alto and discrete. The offices of time give mullein stature. So too the yellow generation of flowers crowding the communal nobility of its stalk. Mullein finds stature in wayside places, like can you believe it? The mullein smells, it smells of mullein. A tea of its leaves can be made for those people. Mullein stands as tall as its tiptoe. Because it acts as mullein it cannot be a weed. Why would weeds be weeds with you just standing there? Your money market accumulates interest which constitutes no interest but secular chance. Mullein sports a rood of earth and the bennies include leaves of leafy size. Can any supposition outbid roots delving into the nature of soil? Engaged as a fertile instant the mullein rides high. The adventure of where you are pins to the mullein. You are a verse or something, with graduation possible. Wiggle your toes, wave your hands: sunshine resides in the blue moment, too.


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