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The Test

A child of nature called a weed
Was growing by the door.
Unsightly and a nuisance
It was nothing to adore.

Fertilizer, as a joke,
Was placed upon the roots
Conspirators would check each day
For they were in "cahoots."

Twas all in fun and just a test
To see what they could see
Would happen if they cared and nurtured
A plain and useless weed.

One day their eyes could not believe
The sight outside their room
Delicate yellow flowers
Were gloriously in bloom.

In all people there is beauty
But not often clearly seen
If you want to witness magic
Try the test of nurturing.
© Bobbie Burnett
08-31-01
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now playing "Clocks Don't Go Backwards"
Original music composed by Jack Hall