Friendship comes in groves;

seemingly sparce are you in summer, spring and fall.

You bare your hearts on sympodial sleeves

and offer sweet scents to put me at ease.

Good friends reciprocate when offered a gentle touch,

and offer gifts perfuming on the wind.

The warmth of the kettle draws out an essence kept inside.

A season without you is dreary to bear,

so each winter snowfall I treat you with care.