From Orchard Memiors Part II


Connected from the ground's soul
Desperate to imitate the pando
Prayer for the slumbering old beadle, mon amour
"A bene placito," cried whispers from his lore

Atop immaculate rows that rivaled arboretum
Triumph trilled with, "viva pomarium"
New with ardor, masses of colonial colony
A symphonia vibrating without apology

Growth discreet to savor
No respite from heavy labor
The careful branched studs
Springs forth untouched buds

Spanning far horizons without betrayal
New life soothed in a swaddling cradle

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