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Balsams
In tastefully lined up pots in a row,
Multi colored balsams in clusters grow.
A visual treat to adoring eyes,
But never a haunt frequented by the bees.
Do not need much care, yet may fade,
If not allowed a little shade.
Flimsy they are of delicate stems,
With light green leaves of serrated hems.
Growing in my neatly laid up yard,
They invariably make me glad.
Gleaming in the first rays of the summer sun,
By their simple beauty, my heart they have won.
Unlike the charming red, red rose
Hardly any poet, on them, odes compose
They have no scent, yet as a colorful throng,
In my courtyard, proudly they belong
When the flowers wither, pods appear
In time for self- dissemination, they prepare
When fully ripe, the pods explode
And seeds fly as birdies from their nest to explore!
Thus, Nature’s ways are so amazing
Even in plants is an inherent training
For seeds to leave the comfort of their pods
And find their own space fighting all odds!
Copyright ©
Valsa George
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