Polka-Dots & Parachutes

My father tries to murder them
With poisons ev’ry spring.
But I believe a dandelion's
A pretty, little thing.

I like their golden polka-dots
That decorate the ground.
I puff their silver parachutes
And watch them dance around.

I think it’s such a boring sight
When all the yard is green.
My fav’rite lawns are gold and white
With green spots in between.