The flower and the soil
‘O, flower, if you’ll be
rooted to me firmly,
you’ll be standing proud;
I’ll not let you fall.
I’ll nourish and nurture you
till Father Time calls,
and wilt you and wither
into just a memory.
The nest and the nestling
‘O, little one, as long
as you’re in my care,
protect you, I will,
from the perils of life,
till it’s time to move on
and you learn to fly;
it’s enough for me that
I once was your shelter.
.
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