Have you never settled down among the
orchard trees, striped gold with fruit and sunlight
just to wash in juices beading orb-like
from the heavy stamens of wild flowers?
These were planted trees, protected trees, cared
for by men in dungarees and polo
shirts of forest green not nature’s hollow
framework husks, stuffed raw with rot repairing.
Though I had not gone to find him there, when
he appeared through the scree, arising
like a fruit tree in the forest, frosted
with encrusting sugar, I again fell
to his warm, exotic shadow, breaking
that he might remould my embossed shell in gold.
As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my
beloued among the sonnes. I sate downe vnder his shadow
with great delight, and his fruit was sweete to my taste.