Ode to the Geranium
Grandma’s favorite — red of course
But pink and white come to play
With palm size leaves.
Bugs will not eat, no disease to spray.
Your colorful heads
Unfold bright red
Cheering us the
Summer long
When autumn freeze
Comes along
I lift you gently from your nest.
Trim your green way back
Lay you lovingly to rest
In a cool dark place beneath
Summer grass and drying hay
Where you sleep and dream away
Until Robin Redbreast comes to play
And Jack Frost fades away
I lift you gently from your slumber.
Trim your meager soft white roots,
And plant you in spring’s soft warm dirt.
You, like my dreams of old,
Grow once more
In the crevices of my soul.
