Forbidden Fruit

Glancing over the wooden fence early one morning
Stan could see a luscious fruit hanging on a leafy branch
succulent and ripe, ready to be picked.
He knew he could take it with no one near,
he imagined the sticky juice, running down his fingers,
savoring thoughts of sweetness from a summer harvest.

"As long as farmers sow, boys will swipe their harvest,"
he argued with himself in the first light of morn.
Standing close he could touch it with his fingers
knowing the tender fruit hanging from that branch
was an easy target and conveniently near.
With no one around he could simply take his pick.

Then Stan recalled Eve and the fruit she picked,
Even after she was told, to avoid the devil’s harvest.
She forgot the warning when Satan was near
and was thrown out of Eden early next morning.
Stan paused before he took the produce off the branch
Counted the reasons why he shouldn’t on each finger.

He gazed to the sky and saw the sun’s fingers
stretched across the horizon picking
out shadows on the land branching
into rays of love over the bountiful harvest.
In the quiet revere of this enchanted morning
Stan had the sense that God was near.

Alas, it was the farmer’s son standing near,
holding a sling shot with his thumb and finger.
watching for a thief that morning
ready for the hooligan to reach up and pick
the fruit of the season’s harvest.
He waited for the boy to touch the branch.

Maybe it was the lesson from Eve that branched
into Stan’s conscience because he never drew nearer
to the product of the farmer’s harvest.
He pulled back his hand and pushed his fingers
deep into his pockets and refused to pick
the fruit from the farmer’s orchard that morning.

The farmer didn’t lose one item from his harvest so his son relaxed his finger.
Stan had resisted the temptation on the branch but he never knew how near
he was to being picked off by that watchful teenager that blessed morning.