You are the sound of a coin,
falling out of a child’s pocket.
You are the memory of me and my dad,
and our first boat trip together.
You are the sound of an egg cracking in the nest,
giving freedom to baby chicks.
You are smell of fresh oranges,
on a hot summers day.
You are the sound of dripping honey,
coming from the beehive.
You are the impossibility of a glacè cherry having a pip.