Bright as the summer's sky,
Red as the cheeks of a new born child,
Cool as the first evening's breeze
And as Sweet as new found love's first kiss.
You that scramble and trail on the earthy ground,
To grow round and green underneath the summer's sun.
You that break under a gentle touch,
Into an infant's surprise and laugh.
You that nourished Egyptian Kings through their journey in the afterlife.
You that brought the Vietnamese Prince back to rule his land.
You...the chief of this world's luxuries,
King by the Grace of God over all the fruit of the earth.
Mark Twain knew you and loved you,
As do we, Maltese locals adore you.
Red as the farmer's truck that brings you to us,
Watery, sweet, good for our hearts,
Moulded and transformed into little pleasures,
To create a luxury, to make Ambrosia.
Smooth Pannacotta, creamy and rich to the core,
A sister island sitting beautifully along its sibling.
A light sorbet, fresh but just as sweet,
Sitting onto a crimson soup,
Minty and sharp,
Carrying the young, crunchy seeds
To a fertile land of slightly torched watermelon.
All to remind us of the summery heat
And the fruit that quenched our insatiable thirst.