He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not…

The simplicity and delicacy of daisies is undeniable.  We imagine that if they had a personality, it would be pure, sweet, and gentle hearted.  And if daisies could talk, they would be courteously saying hello to each and every passerby.  Daisies are the lacy detail of nature’s intricate design.  Like little snow flakes speckling the countryside, daisies have a rather nostalgic demeanor.  By “demeanor”, we absolutely do mean to imply that flowers have a sort of visage, much like all living things.  When you hold a single daisy in your hand, it’s beauty is not so much in it’s fragrance, but rather it’s lightness and symmetry.  At peak bloom during the summer, if ever there was a “cute” flower, daisies surely are it.

Daisies come with a whole legacy.  The name “Daisy” in Ango-Saxon translates to “day’s eye”, which refers to the opening and closing of the flower throughout the cycle of night and day.  A game began with daisies among young women back in the Victorian Era.  When an unwed woman was heartbroken by someone, she would pluck the petals of a daisy one at a time and say “He loves me, he loves me not…” to determine the outcome of the relationship.  Thus daisies were believed to have a sort of prophetic ability.  Commonly used in Chamomile tea, in England daisies are also known as “bruiseworts” because their mashed leaves may be used to sooth chapped skin and bruises.  A daisy is usually found in white, but with today’s modern hybrids and botanical breeders, they come in various colors.

“Daisy, Daisy,
Give me your answer do!
I’m half crazy,
All for the love of you!
It won’t be a stylish marriage,
I can’t afford a carriage
But you’ll look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.”

-Harry Dacre, 1892



by Bernadette Lords