In the garden where I sat,

A guava tree stood tall and grand,

A silent witness to passing time,

Roots like ancient fingers in the land.

 

Its branches reached out far and wide,

Offering shade and sweet fruit,

Each guava a blend of sour and sweet,

A taste that always feels so acute.

 

Through the years, it's grown and thrived,

As I've watched from my own place,

A bond of friendship silently formed,

With memories we both embrace.

 

Childhood friends in nature's dance,

Growing old with stories untold,

The guava tree and I, hand in root,

In this garden where dreams unfold.