The cement gives a groan
As it opens a crack,
And says, "I give!"
To the sun's attack.

The soil gives a push
And the sun gives a pull,
As a brave little sprout
Climbs up a hill.

It's a pretty tight fit,
But as word gets around,
Its roots are given
A little more ground.

Then the rain turns up
With a back-up drink,
And those roots respond
With a grateful wink.

They push and pull,
With all their might,
Then ... out pops a leaf
In the bright sunlight!
  Edie Batstone