My Rose Apple ( panineer jaampa)



A sappling cherished
From my Appa' s farm
Planted by my bedroom window
Started bearing fruits
But my tiny friends -the squirrels 
Thrive on the pink blossoms
And no fruits to ripen. 

I let them eat! my wild friends
They are a joy to behold
But occasionally the urge to taste
Atleast one , makes us to cover
Those close to the ground.
These are two we saved
For our li'l ones
To watch them bite
In to the luscious flesh
And relish its taste.