Poetry: Peach blossom bloomed as gorgeous as bloom rain

By: Amoureax Amant

Poor accountant counted ants, ant by ant,

those ants marched on and on from plant to plant,

as though those ants followed scents, looking for food,

as though apples and pears fell down in wood.

She watched upon farmland in the distant,

where scents of fruits luring ants, smelled fragrant,

there trees yielded apples with hues of blood,

those apples like rubies fell underwood.

She counting ants, wondered under maple,

how many ants aching for sweet apple,

and how many apples smiling in tree,

and how many flowers blooming on lea.

When ants carried hill-like apple back home,

she made the way, smiling like fall blossom.