Asparagus
Asparagus shoots, tender, and green~ killed
By late winter's artic blast and hoar's frost
All that intensive work, tossed aside, lost
The natural world rode in so skilled
Though maybe there are some shoots like love's thrill
In poor soil, lies quietly hidden tossed
Like an uncultivated field with plow uncrossed
Once worked, planted its destiny fulfilled
Those darkened stems once contained hope
The promise everlasting that slowly faded
One hug, one kiss would be the saving grace
Stir asparagus, send up telescopes
Withered heart~ beat once again unaided
Fern fill the plate and flower vase
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