Ode to a Peach

O, Peach!
How lovely is your fuzz,
So soft and gentle to the hand.
How perfect your hue,
That which is yellow-orange
Like the setting sun o'er the
Lengthy horizon
Or reflected across the surface
Of a still pond.
O, Peach!
How unparalleled your shape
So perfectly spherical to fit in my palm.
How sweet to the tongue
Your tangy, sticky nectar
Dribbling down my chin.
O, Peach!
Dear Peach!
No fruit can hope to compare
To your exquisite way
Of flawless ripening
On the spring branches laden
With your blessed weight.
O, Peach!
You are my idol,
My love,
My heaven on earth!