It was the tree with roots hidden,
Lain there by children before.
Time does take its toll,
On restless hearts and quivering souls.

A full grown tree taught them patience,
For success lies in its roots.
"Mama! Mama!" cried little Zakir,
As he and his sister danced in circles,

Around the exquisite apples, as golden as the sun.
"Be patient, my sweet!", whispers mother so elegant,
"I planted this tree, longing for it as you await yours!"
They wanted their tree to sprout in no time,

Unable to realize the blessings of patience.
But how delicious is success, might you ask?
As sweet as an apple, an impatient child.

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