The Apple Tree

They planted the seed in the front yard,

So the sun from the East would be bright.

And they watered the place, and he kissed her young face,

As the morning was breaking the sky.

"When the apple tree blossoms,"

Her father had said. "We'll be together when the apple tree blooms."

And he hugged his sweet wife, who prayed for his life,

And then he left on a bus for the war.

The seasons came and the seasons went.

The apple tree budded and bloomed.

And for years she did wait, as she pondered his fate.

But her father, he never returned.

Her mother died from lonely years waiting

The girl married and had buds of her own

But she stayed in that home where the apple tree'd grown

And she watched as her children would bloom.

Then on one spring morn, when the wind it was warm.

And she lay in her bed facing East,

Her children gathered round, faces painted with frowns.

As an old woman slipped off with her sleep.

As the children left home, they cried out their woe

For the loss of their mother, so dear.

But the youngest, she smiled as she walked for a while

And she stopped and stood next to the tree.

"Mother asked to be buried here when she past,"

She told her siblings, who all would agree.

"She just had to wait, for just the right date

And look, she's left as the apple tree bloomed"