PINKS

Pinks

The colours are bright,

Picking ones that look just right.

Nurturing, watering and caring,

Is that a shoot bursting through?

More and more, watching still,

Too big they grow.

Too homes they go,

Except the lazy one,

That did not want to grow,

I take it inside,

Caring and feeding,

One day I am surprised,

Is that a bud I am seeing?

I watch and wait,

The pink unfolds and waits,

For me to see the wonderful; flower it makes.

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