The Jack-In-The-Pulpit Poem by Lone Dog

Yon shy little preacher
In pulpit so green,
Just why are you hiding?
So rarely you're seen.

Although, by your hiding,
You've increased my joy
When, searching, I've found you,
As nine year old boy.

Oh, why is a flower
Like you quite so plain?
For aren't God's creations
All dabbed with his stains?

Perhaps you're unselfish
And by your drab dress
You leave for the trilliums
The chance to be best.

Come, tell me dear preacher,
I know you're not vain.
Just why did God make you
So drab and so plain?

Your God hath His reasons.
Judge not in such haste.
Appearances alter
When time's run its race.

But now I must leave you,
My usefulness done.
Fret not by my parting.
Observe well, my son.

For September will find me
Re-born in new phase -
A torch of red berries
In splendor ablaze.