Flowers For Grandma

They’d capture live pulsating plants And put them by her bed She loved to feel, caress and touch She claimed they heard each word she said She’d watch them writhing in their pots She’d watch, and they’d watch too Their tentative long writhing stalks That tried to leave their bedside zoo If only she could understand She would not be so keen That plants and flowers Looked alive can turn out very mean And then one silent summers day They found her lying dead With a large geranium’s pale green stalk Lying gently round her head Her relatives soon gathered around Her uncles and her aunts To see the only woman that Was murdered by her plants They buried her amidst the tune Of weeping summer showers And children came to view her tomb And on it put dead flowers