The scent of apples freshly picked and sliced,
Moist, sweet, misty-eyed, murmuring at breakfast
A heartfelt love story, all about what the day will bring--
The minutes like apple jam in a jar,
Spread on rye toast, sweet evanescence,
Joy shimmering up bright in the mind,
Like sunlight in a looking glass,
My thoughts blissful, carefree,
Unburdened, amusing, sheer, light---
In a moment, the houses will take flight.
The streets wag their tails and drift upward,
The fields call like birds and flutter off.
I expect we shall all tremble, rise,
Float upward, dangle from the sky.
Light-headed, dizzy, tenuously
Clinging to the one ponderous thought
Which so tenderly weighs us down.

by Ernest Slyman
Kew Gardens