My great grandma had a cactus.
Prickly was its skin.
It grew to heights of greatness.
It could not be kept in.
My grandma took a cutting,
And potted it for me.
I didn’t do much for it
My little poky tree.
Then one day, a blossom
Developed on the top.
I was so excited.
The thrills just wouldn’t stop.
It soon would be a flower
Pretty, big and bright
Its beauty would be fleeting
And gone by morning’s light.
a pinch of homestead 
Wonderful poem. You never cease to amaze me with your creativity, Melissa.
Thanks, I love writing these.
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