As I sit among the dandelions,Among the rooted gold,I hear the gold-counters buzzingWith memories untold.
If I didn't know you, I'd think you were a liar to say your kid wrote that. And I mean that in the nicest way.
When he recited it to me, I had the same faithless thought. He had been sitting in the dandelions for about 20 minutes and said it "just came to him." I just about fell over, myself.
Someone, quick, give that kid a pen and a journal!