Apple Picking

Sunlight gleams through the branches of the trees, Running feet rumbling the soft ground, Clusters of red among the green leaves. Children laughing, being chased by bees, Snapping off apples, firm and round, Sunlight gleams through the branches of the trees. The smell of cider wafting in the breeze, Wishing the orchard was open year-round , Clusters of red among the green leaves. Dads lifting their children to the crowns with ease, Excitement stirs as they spot the playground, Sunlight gleams through the branches of the trees. Tripping on roots, grass stains on their knees, Mothers listening to their laughter, the loveliest sound, Clusters of red among the green leaves. Rolling down the paths until the grass makes them sneeze, The happiest place, where apples surround. Sunlight gleams through the branches of the trees, Clusters of red among the green leaves.