A well wisher once gifted me
A slender potted plant
Its stem was rather delicate
And it grew with a slant
I never saw it bloom
Come sunshine or rain
All my tender loving care
Was so much in vain
The leaves that it sprouted
Were like tiny little plates
With green crinkly edges
And a lightly hairy pate
Then the same well wisher
Gifted another potted plant
It had the same delicate stem
That too grew with a slant
But this one was pretty
Abloom with red flowers
Adding a splash of colour
To my green windowsill bower
There was an added bonus
The leaves were fragrant as well
With a spicy fresh aroma
That bathed my olfactory cells
The drooping little buds
I noticed one day
Worried it was canker
Eating it away
But they soon stood erect
On their stalks thin and long
To burst into flower
As the days went along
Little did I know
It was the same geranium plant
That had a delicate stem
And grew with a slant
It still has no buds
No flowers to show
Except the spicy leaves
That continue to grow
Not old and forgotten
It lives on my windowsill
Leaning towards the light
With an indomitable will
The drooping buds of geranium
The deep red blossoms
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