Maggie Pogue Johnson

the USA

The Strawberry

At first we see the tiny leaves
And no one at their coming grieves,
But watch so eager each day and hour
For the coming of the little flower.
Each day, then, to the strawberry bed
The feet of little ones do tread
And around the bed they gather soon,
Watching for the strawberry bloom.
The little blossoms so sweet and small
They watch until each petal falls;
How happy they feel, then; oh, how merry,
When they find the first strawberry.
Happier beings were never seen
As they gaze on the little berry green,
With happy hearts and faces strange,
Wondering when it's color will change.
After a few days shall have passed
Still resuming their daily task
To the strawberry bed again they tread
To see who can find a strawberry red.
And as they find them, how happy at heart,
As strawberries in their little mouths dart;
Romping about, full of frolic and glee,
With little mouths full as they can be.
Soon they leave the strawberry bed
After eating all the berries red,
Thanking God, and Heaven above,
For the little berries that they love.
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