H. B. Anderson Writing

Sitting on a counter

Sat a vase with different flowers

Not many paid attention

Most went about their hours

Though, hidden among the petals was a secret little verse

That another spy would soon decode

And act on what he’d learned

Some were messages of battle

Some were messages of strife

Each flower told a story

Each code, a different plight

And no one would have thought a thing from that innocent little sight

Though, much the same, we have much to gain

When we observe the little things in life