Still Life with Apples, Paul Cezanne (c.1890)

Allegory of the Apple

Most perfect of her kind at the table
Beauty of such proportions I do mull
Resisting a bite unsure if able
My ravenous heartbeat there is no lull

Do dare to hold her softly in my hands
To move her towards my hungering lips
For such a sweet delight there were no plans
Reality of this must come to grips

All control have I admittedly lost
Knowing my thoughts are surely to anger
Must consume this beauty at any cost
Burning desire can no longer deter

Yes the sweet flawless apple I did eat
There will be penance for this tasteful treat