The Pair of Guava Trees
AVA Sarkar Mandal
Upon the twin trees, buds appear,
Boy dreams of fruits so bright.
Baskets full will soon be near,
A harvest bursting with delight.
No neighbors roam beneath the shade,
Yet still, the fruits don’t seem to stay.
Before they ripen, gone they fade,
Who takes them all? He cannot say.
Each day he wonders, deep in thought,
Who steals the fruit and runs away?
He searches hard but finds them not,
The mystery lingers, day by day.
One afternoon, with silent feet,
He hides to watch; his eyes open wide.
A squirrel leaps—so quick, so fleet!
Its tiny paws dart side to side.
The fruits, once red, white and sweet,
Are snatched and shared with playful cheer.
The feast is grand, their joy complete,
They leave the branches bare and clear.
Boy sighs—he didn’t know,
These little thieves had tricks so sly.
Now with the squirrels, friend or foe?
He frowns, decides, and says goodbye.