Crackle! Crunch! Says the cold ground as my feet step upon autumn leaves
That have swiftly fallen to the ground like a gypsy sweetly playing a flute.
As I lift my arm towards the ripe apple tree, something suddenly taps me.
The soft whisper of the wind gently lifts me up and carries me away.

Soon I am flying freely in the air like a loose kite drifting towards the calm, gleaming
Bright lights in the quite, dark blue night sky.

As the glistening star seems to shine even brighter and bigger,
I can feel the heat intensifying as if in an oven gleaming brightly as it continues to warm up.
I reach my right arm and hand straight in the air like a rocket blasting high towards the moon
With no intention of stopping until it reaches its destination.
Stretching as far as I can, I hastily try to grab the twinkling star.
But when I think I have it closely held in my hand,
There is nothing but a hard, smooth yellow apple in my palm.