If I were not so tired I would compose a haiku about delectable peaches that explode with flavor and drip with juice and make me happy, but make Patrick sad, because he was stung on the eye by a hornet while harvesting the ones way up on the roof of the milking parlor and how I felt like I would fall off the ladder that Thomas held steady, but it was worth it for such a treat, even if we were exhausted from baking and selling at the farmer's market.
But since I am tired I will merely mention that the sky this evening appeared to glow with a peachy washy glow and it looked just like the taste of the explosively ripe peach I consumed while on a very rickety ladder.
I wish everyone in the world could eat an explosively ripe peach while perched on a ladder in the cool of the evening. I believe if they could we would be much closer to world peace.
Thank you God for ripe peaches. And a moment of peace. And please help Patrick's eye get better very quickly.
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