I love the store-bought perennials that tolerate my horticultural incompetence, but I love and admire the wildflowers that thrive on it.  My wild daylilies began as a few small transplants from roadside patches that were visible only when driven past.  My wild chicory had no help at all.  It just came and spread and teamed up with my spreading daylilies.

Song of Wild Chicory
They try to tell us we are weeds
that grew unaided from stray seeds.
Plant lovers in the know
prefer what’s hard to grow;
they pull up what they say nobody needs.
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And yet we warm the hearts of those
who see beyond sweat on their nose.
We flaunt blue sky while standing tall
to show we are not weeds at all.