The Cherry Tree

The cherry tree hangs high in a crowded field

Its leaves intoxicated with sun

Though some are partly dull

With their water craving tips

And their sad, drooping faces

Nevertheless, the cherries thrive and strive to stay alive

Their skin gleaming with mother nature’s care

Approached with a basket,

The cherry tree now curious

Of what wonders behold it

They’ve had visitors of course

But who will remain,

And who will fly away?

A hand caressed one of the cherries

A light but not quite ripe delicacy

With the colour of a pinkish-red carnation

The owner of the hand was afraid it may be too watery,

Too bitter, too sour

The hand hesitated along with the basket

For another cherry was waiting

The owner of the hand once again fixated on a cherry

With an elongated stalk

This time, the colour was darker and resembled a ruby gemstone

However the fears returned again

Would this too be too watery, too bitter, too sour?

The hand reeled in its basket

For there was another cherry waiting

The hand became attracted to a final cherry

A cherry concealed by leaves

This cherry was darker than the others

With the colour of the most tenebrous streaks of an orchid

But would it too be too watery, too bitter, too sour?

The hand discounted in fear

For there was still a cherry waiting

Confused and inconclusive

The owner stood wondering

A sweet cherry was all that was desired

But would it be the carnation, the gemstone or the orchid?

Tired and feeling famished

The hand impulsively grabbed all three

This was unexpected

For taste buds had not experienced such a delicacy before

The carnation? Sweet

The gemstone? Sweet

The orchid? Sweet

Regardless of colour, the cherries remained flavoursome

For there are also carnations, gemstones and orchids that may not be sweet

But one should never judge

By the colours of the cherry tree