Christmas Cactus
By Elece Hollis
She’s called a cactus––but has no spines;
She speaks between her graceful lines.
She isn’t fir or coned´pine.
At Christmas time.
She isn’t Poinsettia bright
Not Amaryllis––that’s alright!
She bows her head––shy––out of sight
At Christmas time.
She brightens up the room each year;
Comes to bring us all good cheer.
I count her blossoming quite dear
At Christmas time.
