White Apple Blooms Poem by James McLain

Give me the joy of white apple blooms.
The orchard in each walking by us, to this one sunny day.
Like illusions to the night of which all shadows,
the moon and the star light shinning down, around you.
And us with you the happy bee in the morning
comes to the flower and makes happy.
The crowd which has expanded around them both
incompletes speaking this picture.
The woods, when the stream, leaning across both talking.
The flower of the intermediate air it is there in the open.
Off where and with the bird which opens the green shoot
seeminly makes coming back happy.
That is heard, suddenly as the bee, pushes out with the needle.
Meteor flashes by over head, the tree which of it's leaves
are still standing.
Now there is with love for the sake of it, in order to justify to some
far end, where what is of love of her need reservation,
because of God weather, whethers him.
But as for us just achieving is that of both when they speak of need.