The most beautiful,
Of apples,
Candy red,
Among the gala,
And the Honeycrisp,
The golden ones,
Are many,
Against the new green leaves,
They followed the flowers,
And hang enticingly,
I wait, for one to drop,
Closer,
One, I saw,
Once, twice,
The largest of them all,
No purer color to find,
Exposed to the sun’s
Sweetening rays, so strong
But the arm that brought you in sight,
Sprung you back,
Back,
Away,
Lost, behind the others,
Whose scent cannot compare.
And I,
Wait,
Not content,
With what is visible,
So I sit, in the shade they give,
And return their smiles,
With quiet patience,
I watch the bees
And birds,