The Plants Poem by Morgan Michaels

One sun becomes them all,
one heaven above.
Feet have all in common soil
different though they be
so oddly will they show their tolerance and love,
their eagerness to grow
tangle, mingle and divide,
bloom, if they can, conditions meet-
So have no fear-
give them room, the boon of water
sunshine's glinting glance
and there's little you can do to hinder,
even if you would, them;
watch them wind and tilt
and appose their lips
or lift their leafy wing tips
from an earth they cannot quit,
that down about them stubborn clings
good guests, good hosts
the least to do to make of it the most
and with nonchalance, perchance,
yield a flower or fruit
for our delight or table fare
or the hair of a lady.
Where they open up their eyes
the skies are blue and clear
the winds are balmy and there lurks no pain
harsher than the evening rain
may cause, while moths criss-cross the tilled terrain.
There is nothing you can do
to prove your mettle better
then take from them, give back again-
but if you fail in this
bitterness will follow bitterness
poison kiss will follow poison kiss;
yet if one of these
prospers by your husbandry
all men will love you and all woman miss.