True Colours Thursday 7/16/2009 Peach

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Peach Blossoms by Carl Sandburg

WHAT cry of peach blossoms let loose on the air today
I heard with my face thrown in the pink, white of it all?
In the red whisper of it all?

What man I heard saying: Christ these are beautiful!

And Christ and Christ was in his mouth, over these peach blossoms?



James Whitcomb Riley - The Ripest Peach

The ripest peach is highest on the tree --
And so her love, beyond the reach of me,
Is dearest in my sight. Sweet breezes, bow
Her heart down to me where I worship now!
She looms aloft where every eye may see
The ripest peach is highest on the tree.
Such fruitage as her love I know, alas!
I may not reach here from the orchard grass.
I drink the sunshine showered past her lips
As roses drain the dewdrop as it drips.
The ripest peach is highest on the tree,
And so mine eyes gaze upward eagerly.
Why -- why do I not turn away in wrath
And pluck some heart here hanging in my path? --
Love's lower boughs bend with them -- but, ah me!
The ripest peach is highest on the tree!