Lovely Little Wildflower
Roses are red, violets are blue;
Can’t really say which is best.
But I know a little wildflower
Who’s different than all the rest.
This flower’s surrounded by Sleepy Sheep
And fidgets colored like a rainbow.
She’s probably chewing on gum as well.
(Sound like a little one you know?)
My wildflower will often stand out
In a field of well-mannered blooms.
While the garden emits its sweet fragrance,
This wonderful wild one often fumes.
Rough around the edges, sure,
But with a tender center.
This is my little wildflower
We daily encourage to be gentler.
Shorter than those with leggy stems,
Darker than those native to our state,
Slower to develop than others,
Bigger obstacles to navigate.
I sometimes want my little flower
To be more like the others
Who engage, fit in, mature, take part,
Grow up to be just like their mothers.
But not every flower has a beautiful aroma,
Perfect petals and a long green stem.
Some have thorns and unruly leaves.
Is there any less beauty in them?
Thank God that our Prairie and its blooms
Have many gardeners to tend to their growth.
Firm guidance with a loving hand:
Our budding blossoms clearly need both.
To raise my wildflower in particular
Requires the temper of a saint.
She needs patient teachers and guides,
(Which is something this poet often ain’t!)
Daily she needs nurturing and protection
While the winds of life are blowing.
She also needs tough love and discipline
Until she’s finished growing.
Will my little wildflower be chosen
To be part of an award-winning bouquet?
Will she grace the cover of garden magazines
Our coffee tables proudly display?
Will a lovely bride proudly carry her
As she walks slowly up the aisle?
Will she be a surprise on Valentine’s Day
With her only purpose to create a smile?
I might have wished, many years ago,
To have just such a popular bloom,
The one everybody wants to exult,
Who feels loved when she enters a room.
I no longer care … but sometimes wonder
Why God planted this wildflower in my bed.
“I created you to be her gardener, dear child,
But you won’t walk alone,” He said.
He provided other caring men and women
With the tools and experience to be
A wonderful village of gardeners (that’s you!)
To join hands, heads and hearts with me.
So as this lovely little wildflower
Continues to bloom and grow
There are a couple things I really want
Her other loving gardeners to know.
Together we planted seeds,
Together we prepared the soil.
Together we rejoiced in her growth
Together we saw fruits of our toil.
You tilled the soil, day after day.
You gave the sun and the water.
You treated this wonderful wild thing like
A special (and at times rebellious) daughter.
This amazing, God-planted wildflower
Has stronger roots because of your care.
You are a wonderful gardener, friend,
And an answer to many a prayer.
I’m glad this wild flower found me
And so happy that she found you too.
We’ll never forget all that you’ve done
And we’ll never, ever forget YOU.