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.