Beautiful Girl,

Stay with me. Please allow me to introduce Apple Mare, she is the sweetest. Give her an apple from your palm and she’ll be sure to chomp it up without including any of your digits. I offered her one just before I crooned her with this tune and the sweet scent of her namesake wafted in the air. Funny, I don’t recall an apple’s fragrance in the air as pungent as when I munch on one. Everyone loves to hand-out fruit for these champions, something about having a little something in your life besides yourself to worry about or think about. In the language of my fruit offering, “Beautiful Girl,” popped into my head what do you think, a portrait of love, ardor, and affection here?

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