A Wildflower Grows

A grassy knoll atop a little hill,
Where the air is typically still,
The land bare but for a lone oak tree,
A place to find solitude aplenty.

Many a plant had tried to grow,
From the Carnation to the Mistletoe,
But the knoll a tough host be,
And nothing lived past day three.

But then one day a gust of wind did blow,
And with it brought the seed of Cosmos,
Not long later the flower bloomed,
Sprouting gently from Mother Nature’s womb.

A single red flower amidst a sea of green,
With petals so delicate and a stalk so thin,
Bending even at the slightest touch of wind,
How could it survive the environment it was in?

But the Cosmos proved a mighty plant,
Growing despite nutrients scant,
And as it grew so too did it spread,
Flooding the knoll in a sea of red.

Butterflies and bees the flowers did bring,
Little animals and birds that sing,
Cows, goats, sheep grazing,
From one blossom did so much life spring.

The knoll is now unrecognised,
Resembling nothing like a land deprived,
A picture of beauty, well-revived,
As the wildflower grew and thrived.