- Morning in the Orchard
A summer orchard in the early hours:
I see leaved branches canvass overhead
and arch toward the sky; large apples shine
between the greenery, in shades of red.
Lush tufts of grass brush up against my knees,
until I reach a path; but now I turn
to view the distant hills and feel the breeze,
that whisks away all trouble and concern.
Wild flowers weave around some twisted roots
and beg for my attention; gently, I
select the bluest buds to carry home:
day-flowers--somewhat darker than the sky.
Although a sentimentalist I'm not,
when viewing such a fine, Edenic place,
how can I not respond to nature's touch?
I think, I've always longed for her embrace.
