I wear an old shade of red.
My belly is a wrinkled
skin of fruit.
I am no longer a ripe peach,
not even a blossom.
That my daughter is.

The gardener from thee-
a meager seed and humble need
a leaf within his reach
The spell enclosed,
apricot and peach.
Pineapple in bloom
No rose
No jessamine
Symbols of all interposed
With a flower so sweet,
like a blue eye
the gardener sighs.

"this Plant, is not mine."

⠠⠗⠫⠁⠉⠞⠫⠀⠶⠀⠮⠀⠋⠗⠥⠊⠞⠎⠀⠷⠀⠮⠀⠋⠁⠇⠇
⠠⠹⠗⠂⠞⠢⠬⠀⠶⠀⠸⠮⠀⠋⠑⠑⠇⠬⠎⠀⠷⠀⠉⠕⠍⠿⠞⠀⠀
⠠⠯⠀⠝⠳⠗⠊­⠩⠰⠞⠀
⠠⠙⠑⠑⠏⠀⠓⠥⠑⠎⠀⠷⠀⠉⠯⠽⠀⠁⠏⠏⠇⠑
⠠⠛⠑⠕⠗⠛⠊⠁⠝⠀⠏⠑⠁⠡⠀
⠠⠮⠀⠏⠑⠁⠉⠑⠀⠴⠀⠔⠀⠮⠀⠇⠊⠋⠑⠀
­⠠⠞⠀⠮⠀⠋⠗⠥⠊⠞⠀⠸⠓⠀⠞⠕⠀⠃⠑⠜⠀
⠠⠮⠀⠺⠔⠞⠻⠀⠌⠕⠇⠑⠀⠮⠀⠠⠡⠊⠇⠙⠇⠊⠅⠑⠀⠚⠕⠽⠀
⠠⠺⠑⠀⠺⠁⠇⠅⠀⠞⠪⠜⠙­⠀⠮⠀⠉⠇⠊⠖⠎⠀⠷⠀⠙⠑⠎⠏⠁⠊⠗⠀
⠠⠞⠕⠀⠏⠇⠥⠝⠛⠑⠀⠔⠞⠕⠀⠺⠁⠞⠻⠎⠀⠃⠇⠁⠉⠅⠑⠝⠫⠀

Sweet, succulent Elberta Peach
It's tell-tale blush within my reach
It's that time of year again
A peach to die for and then
I have to have another,
The ultimate peach, brother!
Sweet, succulent Elberta peach
It's tell-tale blush within my reach

The sky over peach hill
Was dulcet last I looked,
Without a hint of clammy March
In the middle of a bright July

The sky over peach hill
Had clouds surrounding the kites,
My girl and I would stare for hours
As hot-air balloons passed by

That sky over peach hill
Ever soft, ever sweet.
That was the place where I found
That life passes in a sigh

The peaches fell,
And august came.
My girl went away,
I was left behind.

The sky over peach hill
Looks a little darker now.
But I know once winter ends
The kites will fly again

i like
peach: the color
peach: the flavor
peach: the scent