Apple Picking
Born a dainty daughter of an orchadist,
the thrill of picking apples she can’t resist.
She dances around the fruit-full apple trees,
while the red delicacies swing in the breeze.
The southern wind blows across the orchard,
and the boughs shake at the flutter of the bird.
The apples fall through the shine of morning sun,
she picks them tenderly up one by one.
Their crimson hue close to heart she feels so dear,
as the orchard morphs into mesmeric Eden for her.
The apples attract her with the seducing allure,
the smidgen of Eve within her isn’t yet obscure.
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