First Fruit
There’s a custard apple growing
On the custard apple tree!
The first fruit ever it bore.
I’ve watered and mulched
Since we planted it there
Two years ago, maybe more.
So oft have I searched
For flowers and form;
A sign of a first fruit, fair.
But naught did I find
But a flower or two
That very soon wasn’t there,
Leaving nothing to show
But leaves, and so
I’ve waited as seasons slipped by.
When, to my disbelief
Hiding behind by a yellowing leaf,
On the end of a drooping twig, I spy
A fist-sized, first fruit, fair!
Perfectly formed and ripe to eat,
A custard apple growing just for me.
The first of many yet to come.
Thank you, thank you
Custard apple tree!
Yummy poem! Just a teeny tiny typo…
fixed now thank you for pointing it out