An apple tree
Years taking hold
Establishing
Slower than grass
Don't watch me
All on its own
Four years old
Blossoms increasing
Anxiety held
Storm and frost
Melt gentle petal
Before full grown
Five years since
First taking root
Fruit begins
Ripens in the sun
Hoping no bug
Disease or bird
Steals away
One day when strong
Full fruit display
Reddens in the sun
Twist and pull
The most delicate
Fruit spoken of
Since legends told
As a daily apple girl
It keeps me well
Delight always held
As I polish skin
On my chest and
Sink in
One year or two
There may be no fruit
If pruned too hard
Or left untended
Another year closer
To harvest end
Enjoy while we can
Count the stars of heaven 