In markets vast, where fortunes sway,
A quiet truth lights the way:
Not in the rush, nor fleeting gain,
But steady hands that bear the strain.
The seeds you plant in fertile ground,
Through storms and sun, will yet be found.
For time, the gardener, tends with care,
And grows the fruits you long to bear.
The charts may dip, the headlines scream,
Yet patience holds the investor's dream.
For wealth is built not in a day,
But through the years, come what may.
Compound's magic, silent, slow,
Turns modest streams to rivers' flow.
Each dollar saved, each share you keep,
Becomes a treasure, vast and deep.
Ignore the noise, the frantic race,
The market's whims, its wild embrace.
For those who wait, with vision clear,
The future's wealth will soon appear.
So plant your seeds, let time unfold,
A story of wisdom, courage, and gold.
For in the end, the patient see,
The harvest of their legacy.