None call thee flower! . . . I will not so malign
The satin softness of thy plumed seed,
Nor so profane thee as to call thee weed,
Thou tuft of ermine down, fit to entwine
About a queen; or, fitter still, to line
The nest of birds of strange exotic breed.
The orient cunning, and the somnolent speed
Of looms of dusky Ind weave not so fine
A gossamer . . . Ah me! could he who sings,
On such adventurous and aerial wings
Far over lands and undiscovered seas
Waft the dark seeds of his imaginings,
That, flowering, men might say, Lo! look on these
Wild Weeds of Song--not all ungracious things!

From "To the Milkweed" by Lloyd Mifflin

My father-in-law has spent so many years fighting this plant as a weed that it's difficult for him to appreciate how pretty its flowers are. I find the rose-pink color of the large ball-shaped flower clusters beautiful, and the unique architecture of the flowers interesting.

Milkweed is named for the milky sap that it contains, which oozes from broken stems or leaves. The flowers are attractive to butterflies, and the leaves of this plant are the only source of food for the larvae of the Monarch Butterfly.   Poisons that are in the Milkweed are ingested by the larvae, making them and adult Monarchs unpleasant-tasting and toxic, deterring predators.

When the seeds have matured, the long, rough-textured seed pod splits open, revealing rows of overlapping brown seeds, attached to silky floss. As the floss dries, it expands into a fluffy parachute that is soon caught by the breeze, dispersing the seeds.

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