Love Must Flow...

A few miles into the eastern shore,
Was a tree- lush and green;
Famous for the fruits she bore-
Exotic, and in numbers umpteen.

Every passerby was bound to stop,
To get a bite of her produce;
Not a single fruit would drop,
And end-up being of no use.

One day, buoyed by pride, she did wonder-
'Why ingrates should feast on her tots?',
Electing to thwart the apparent plunder,
She wriggled her branches, to hold on to her lot.

The infants, beloved, firmly lay on her bosom,
And in time-stifled-succumbed to the rot;
She, more than ever, was now lonesome,
Wanting reciprocation had left her distraught.

She opened her arms,to undo her blunder,
Showering down the gifts bestowed;
Her heart, again, was alive and tender,
As the love she choked on flowed.