The Potted Plant

I only went in for some potting soil.

Seems a constant need of my chosen toll.

There front and center was this potted temptation,

Completely unneeded and demanding my attention.

A small cost for a fleeting pleasure

The appeal primeval, a joy in my leisure.

There was a time when they came for free,

From a grandmother’s porch or a friend’s moving debris.

But with more strings and promises to keep,

For you alone stand between it and life’s long sleep.

Thus grew the skills to see it flourishing.

By the timely watering, care, and nourishing.

So, my trophy goes into my cart,

A token of things once given from the heart.

So, by their simple, generous deed,

They, in me, planted a gardening seed.

A.A.’s Dad