Acres of blossom -

Row upon row of neat petals

Pulling them in.

                                  Orchards of Peace

                                  Identify the first bite -

                                  Sweet taste of another world.

Juice Flowing between narrow slats -

An orange waterfall

That must be tasted.

                                  Dark surrounds the vast barrels

                                  Like a secret veil -

                                  Months of doing its own thing.

Worth waiting for -

First glass, first sip

The Squeak of a tap

                                   Stamped into the new cider’s passport -

                                   Silent nod,

                                   Quiet murmur of approval

Copyright James Crowden.