Tiny emerald-hued leaves in symmetrical arrays,
Lilac-pink, white-dotted blooms radiant in the sun’s rays;
But why shunned by shepherd and grazing beast of burden
In this warm winsome tropics her fine wonted haven?
In a seemingly shy, self-effacing fashion,
She folds up when touched —her fail-safe reaction.
Passersby leave, mistaking her for dead;
In a moment her leaves are again nicely spread!
Thorns cleverly hidden for greater protection
Pierce quite passively with a prickly sensation —
Some toxic pain that lingers all night and all day,
“Touch me not” is my name, she might as well say.
Roots go forward, backward, and sideward;
In no time at all, she covers a backyard.
Amazing tricks —wily ways to survive!
Mimosa Pudica, forever you’ll thrive!
© 2015 Benjamin G. Sangalang
To anyone who may have had a bit of heartache reading my other poem "Sulpot (Amor-seco)". This one might assuage that feeling.