Never was there a meaner plant than the milkweed. Like the tiny hair on your chinny-chin-chin, you fear to pluck it lest 5 more grow in its place. Its milky sap is poisonous and causes the flesh to pucker and itch. The odor hangs on your clothes like a veil of mortal corruption...its pungent stench resistant to the strongest detergent. Were it not for its subtly scented flower so loved by the butterfly and the delicate, feathery milkweed spoors that float like snow on the fall breeze to be used by birds and rodents to feather their nests, I would wish the obstinate milkweed gone from this world.
Milkweed
Never was there a meaner plant than the milkweed. Like the tiny hair on your chinny-chin-chin, you fear to pluck it lest 5 more grow in its place. Its milky sap is poisonous and causes the flesh to pucker and itch. The odor hangs on your clothes like a veil of mortal corruption...its pungent stench resistant to the strongest detergent. Were it not for its subtly scented flower so loved by the butterfly and the delicate, feathery milkweed spoors that float like snow on the fall breeze to be used by birds and rodents to feather their nests, I would wish the obstinate milkweed gone from this world.
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