His cherry comes to bloom once a year.
With only a few springs of its blossom
Now he has to cherry pick a sightseeing.
A third of his time is taken up by sleep,
A cherry cheeked goddess of non-being
Who keeps awake about what to watch.
Now do not pick the cherries in bloom
But wait for them to be succulent fruits
Heavy on the bough and ripe for a fall.
(referring to A.E.Houseman’s poem Loveliest of the trees, the cherry now)