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Poinsettia | ||
| Poinsettia waits for winter days To engage in bright displays. All year long it waits unseen In its normal guise of green. When the days are cool and short, It is ready for some sport. Brilliant bracts of red appear, Shouting "look at me, I'm here. It is hard to humble be When it has such finery. Yet is knows that it will fade When it loses daily shade. | ||
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