It’s like warm sun beckoning to the soul.

The sun shining past the leaves.

So warm,

Yet bright to the purpose of closing one’s eyes.

Imagine the brightest star in our galaxy,

Shining upon a

Peach.

Not a fruit blessed with magical

Mysteries.

As if biting into its sweet flesh,

Breathes life into the soul.

No,

Just a pink, plump, peach.

Just a warm peach basking in radiance.

It’s fine hairs, cheery reflection and roundness,

Glimmers in your iris

The harsh brightness of orange,

Mellowed out as if pouring milk,

Over the fruit,

Changed it entirely.

No, it’s not as bright as a sour orange.

But, sweet like powdered sugar.

It’s simply…

Sweet as a Peach.