Strong

I brought home my four babies

From the nursery three months ago.

Placed them in the courtyard,

Gave them each my love and my soul.

One after another, chose them each,

For their place in the sun.

Water and shelter as per the dose.

Three of my babies

Are growing green and strong;

The fourth too shy,

Slanting away, with a side glance.

Neither tall, nor wide,

Skinny, struggling with appetite.

But I can see its stems holding on,

Taking in the moisture and sun,

Preserve and store.

My gardener says

This isn't his time,

He needs more cool

To grow and shine;

Yet all through the summer

He sustained,

His roots tender,

But still carrying on.

I know my baby

Will pull through this rough time,

'Cause just like his mother,

Time is rearing him to be strong.