Ripe Apple Of The Sun

Ripe Apple Of The Sun
© Surazeus
2026 02 17

If I should catch ripe apple of the sun 
before it falls in thick Slough of Despond 
I may taste bitter sweetness of true love 
which is why the revolution is fought 
with passion for aspiring right to stand 
with fluted robe of hope on modern shores. 

We ride wave of this golden age with class, 
exquisite in white marble drapery 
that gleams with brutal wisdom of starlight 
in gleaming waters of the fountain pool 
where statues of our ancestors remain 
long after their souls program our genes. 

While change remains eternal principle 
that guides our progress from classical times, 
we gaze with rapture at excessive shapes 
contained in watery medium of our minds 
reflecting glimmer of grief in our eyes 
we cherish with consensual fortitude. 

Alive in warm flesh of young nameless boy, 
Apollo glides in cluttered streets of Rome 
with flute he plays for national orchestras 
on transparent stage of undevoured time 
to note accentual differences of rhyme 
we share as witness of treacherous death. 

Yet unread pages of the ancient book 
still mirror characters with noble traits 
who never walk this world in mortal flesh 
for they are ideals we aspire to play, 
stuck in impossible scenarios 
that always end in tragic loss of faith. 

Uncommon radiance of her special face 
gleams clear with incandescent honesty 
through immaterial passion to retrieve 
efficient confidence from tombs of fate, 
defined by absence of our mortal souls 
embodied by glass idols of respect. 

Endurance through aesthetic thoughtfulness 
reveals how numb bereavement frames our days 
with courage to survive contingencies 
no one but scarred survivors will expect 
though trapped in consolations of contempt 
that drown our hearts in cold indifferences. 

Assertive discipline of summoned ghosts 
constrains excessive passion to transcend 
bland credence of divisive energies 
that teach us how to understand our pain 
despite attempts to bank fateful accounts 
with apples we store in our wounded hearts.