A young girl plants a garden,
Teaching herself through books.
She’s pulling out **** by ****,
Passing by the games and brooks.

She yawns as she rises each morn
To tend her plants so dear.
Pansies, daisies, daffodils,
Her love for them is clear.

She picks a bunch this morning,
A sweet-smelling bouquet,
And enters naught but joy into
The Fair’s gardening display.

The girl is young and inexperienced,
She knows this but she smiles.
For even if she doesn’t win,
Her flowers are seen for miles.

The day does end, as all days must,
The girl waits with giddy thoughts.
Surprisingly she’s awarded
A ribbon of forget-me-nots.

In a completely awed excitement,
The girl rushes down the way.
In fact she’s so exuberant
She near forgets her own bouquet!

She runs down her street into her home,
Pride gleaming in her eyes.
“Ma, Pa, I’ve worked so hard,
Guess what! I’ve earned first prize!

“All those early mornings and work
Helped me win my ribbon of blue.
I came home as quick as I could,
I just had to tell you!”

Her mother puts down her magazine,
Her father looks up from the news.
They stand up, looking at the flowers,
And, with a few words, extinguish her fuse.

“You silly girl, you should know better.”
“Oh honey, what did you do?”
“We raised you smarter than this, my dear,
You can’t put flowers in stew.”