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Poem

She loves to wear her long green gown
she lets her yellow hair hang down
     Her brown face turns up to the sun
the transformation now is done
     She runs out to the garden
to meet her sisters there
     they tremble in the morning mist
they bow their heads in prayer
     She soon connects the circle
with hands so cool and green
     her brown boots shuffle in the soil
like roots she stands between
     they sway to piping wind songs
they bask there in the light
     They giggle through the showers
and whisper 'til the night
     She takes their seeds of wisdom
inside to bake a cake
     Sunflower muffins on the sill
for phantom friends to take
     Her sisters of the circle
are murmuring her name
     She can't  fit in the world inside
she'll never be the same
     Now she belongs, she's in a clique
she's not the last one to be picked
     Inside she's small, unloved and plain
but gardens grow a healing strain
     Of all the gifts she yearns to share
she's beautiful and special there.
     Ther's no one left to bid goodbye
she shuts the window with a sigh
     The moonlight glows on sleepy heads
Sunflowers sleeping in their beds
     She digs her toes into the ground
soft and warm and all around
     Her sisters brush against her sleeves
She reaches to embrace their leaves
     You're one of us they seem to croon
As their garden grows beneath the moon.

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