For her fifth birthday she got a corner of the garden, a little bed of her very own. She emptied a seed-packet on the glistening earth and rushed out next morning, expecting to see a crop of beautiful flowers.
Hopes dashed, she’d just discovered nature’s way – left to time, all things come to fruition.
Now older, seasoned, she wonders at toddler-tantrums from so-called grown-ups still screaming for the-moon-on-a-stick – her tomorrow, theirs today?
Impatient again, she watches seeds of protest shoot across her shining screen and rushes out to a blossoming of banners and bright futures planted afresh in youthful minds.
Image: The Guardian
Stimulus: crop, left and bed from https://randomwordgenerator.com/