The Withered Flower

There was a flower once near my home.
I often went to find it.
It was stunted, dull, and badly withered
and choking weeds did bind it.  

I tried to to help the unfortunate plant 
As much as I could do.
I often went to keep it company 
And maybe pull the vines, too.  

The flower, I learned, had been oft uprooted,
Moved from place to place.  
This prevented it from getting
Sustenance from its space.  

One day the flower vanished away.
I did not know where to.  
I feared that it would die completely
And fade from memory too.  

But one day I saw it in another place
And, were my eyes deceived?  
The flower was thriving as never before.
I would never have believed

That this flower could ever revive and live.
But live it did, and thrived.
And I rejoiced to see it blooming,
Tell see it now alive.