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Trichocaulon cactiforme* Slow in growth but rather rare Year on year it’s never altered Candle shaped and coloured grey, What a boring plant it is! Always measuring just two inches Never mind my loving care Watering, feeding, heat in winter, Nothing ever makes it budge. Other cacti burgeon, flourish Trichocaulon stays the same— Or it did, until today!
Scarcely could I credit it First to see a little offset Candle shaped and coloured grey Then, by Jove, there was a flower Quite two millimetres wide. Quick! Indoors and get the camera, Tell the neighbours, phone the press Trichocaulon cactiforme Has produced a miracle. Never now shall I complain, All my work was not in vain Nor will you hear me any more Calling Trichocaulon boring. * pronounced ‘cac-ti-for-may’.
Pete Crowther
Read poems about / on: flower, winter, today, work, water
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