I received a perfect gift; a pretty red flower,
From a boy who thought he had power,
Who annoyed me by the hour—
Let me tell you what he did.
Once upon a happy time,
When gardening became my prime,
In our backyard rich with grime,
I planted a seed.
I watered it both night and day,
Not an hour I stayed away,
Till a tiny sprout made its way
Up to greet the sun.
It stood there strong for just a while,
Then came cruel rain in gloomy style.
Next morning, it was hard to smile—
The sprout was gone.
But I planted again, with care and pains,
Prayed for sunlight, prayed for rains,
Till a bud began its gains,
And bloomed one happy morn.
But something soon seemed quite askew—
Its shape no longer right and new,
Like popped corn, its petals grew—
A bug had munched the bud.
After another patient try,
I grew a flower, proud and bright.
But before I could take it by,
The boy next door had come.
He picked it for me, with daring flair,
Unaware of my love and care,
That bore the flower pure and fair—
I could have picked it myself.
Oh, how thoughtful you are, lad,
The effort you made wasn’t bad,
Your gift should have made me glad—
Thank you for the length you went.