Cactus

My daddy said you're prickly, like
His beard at evening time.
My mother likes your greenish hue,
A lovely shade of lime.

But I'm amazed at how your roots
Stretch so far down below
To find some water for your thirst,
You could to China go.

But silent sentry of the west,
I will not pat your head.
For you would likely poke me, so
I'll wave hello instead.