The brightest glowing apples eas’ly bruise
So too shall nectars sweetest swiftly sour
As well those champi’ns crowned in layers lose
And Heaven’s roses wither by the hour

If left exposed to life extracting air
Those fabled grapes of deities shall prune
And nowhere shall thee find a note so fair
As that when Herr Mozart played out of tune

Henceforth my words foretell of instant joy
With seas as shallow as a kernel’s core
I learn the message knowing Yahweh’s ploy
To clutch our needs and covet nothing more

So as thy Beauty dwindles and expires
My adoration for thee never tires