Don’t be a fool for the color seems
tangy,
Mistake the coarseness for naturally
bestowed smooth,
Simple yet expensive, a luxury thought
of.
And a delight for those palatable skill
that which food is creation.
But I do not speak of that is bound eaten.
I yearned for its oddity, displayed.
A few consider some adjective to praise
on.
Suffice; I am but somebody allegorically
as explained.
Supple and sweet your affection, bright
yellow.
Even those unblessed with sight, smiles.
That’d seem to come from its humble
abode.
Flaky like snow, elegant among all.
But one of thought deem to query,
A coat of crudely fashion, I wear.
Of such expensive gift to know,
In its entirety, at use none of all
wasted… No.
Saccharine in it’s ripen form; yet sour
for a tongues delight.
Feelings that come certain yet toughened
to wedge inside.
From all may think that embodies the
whole is bitter loving,
But the complexity of what it has, a
plenty to exploit.
What luck then I have considered of all
qualities true,
To define, to know of what I admire from
this petty yellow fruit.
That one he is maybe kind, yet one has to
strive for the better part.
A grind too acrid, a squeeze maybe right.
