where the writers are
Oblivious Little Frond

 

Walking along in our wood,

I spy along my way;

A pale green frond emerging,

Seeking the light of day.

 

I wonder a bit at its moxie,

For this path is on the way;

To an often visited spot of ours,

We shall revisit someday.

 

How long will it be until,

Together we stroll this way?

Will this fern be glorious then,

and vibrant on that day?