The Apple of My Eye

Twas twilight's gentle embrace,
And the hush of the eve;
Stars whispered secrets,
As the moon began to heave.

In orchards of dreams,
Where shadows dance and play,
I beheld a vision,
The apple of my eye that day.

With skin like silk,
A lustrous, tempting sheen,
A fruit so rare,
In the garden of the serene.

Amidst the leaves, it gleamed,
A ruby in the fading light,
A symbol of passion,
In the tranquil night.

I reached out, fingers extended,
To pluck this treasure fair,
Yet, in the orchard's silence,
A whisper hung in the air.

The apple of my eye,
A metaphor for desire,
In the orchard of moments,
Igniting a love's entire fire.

As the stars painted patterns,
And the moon embraced the sky,
I held in my hand,
The apple of my eye.