Urania!

The world might be an orchard
If only we would plant the trees
To have landscapes be less tortured
With unforgiving winter freeze.
And fruit, sequestered by the leaves,
And fueled by the solar beams,
And by chlorophyll the wood conceives
More steadily than offhand dreams...
Excepting, all our dreams of love,
Indirectly sunbeam fueled
By all the dangling fruit above;
Sparkling when fresh dew bejeweled,
Like eyeballs in a lover's skull...
When thoughts are pure and hearts are full.