Those delightful fruits

Apricots.
They are sweet, they are docile, they are ripe and fresh upon the highest hill. Tall trees of them sprout in gardens and valleys of my dearest earthly dreams.
Apricots are mesmerizing, that juicy sweetness of pulp and overwhelming taste. Naturally sugary and with vitamins sprawling inside just like the embryo of a tree it once were. I like it's shape and all the warm orange, because it memoriezes the summer sunset when it became ripe. I enjoy it's surface and filling weight in my bare palm, replacing empty scents in my nose.
Apricots.
I love your story. Thou wonderful fruit of family Prunus genus glimmer by sunlight just as the harvest morning dawns. I feel your great contrast to the greenery of leaves and branch, because there the apricots hang, freely and wild and without a mourning sign. Vitamins of A, C and iron shine through their lovely bodies as well as antioxidants to strenghten a mind. The dry, small bites of an apricot are outstanding too, I'd eat them every day. Munching and gnawing on their fine sapor.
Apricots, of course.
Their delicious insides, it is glowing with pride. Pride of the sweetness and the young innards which no other fruit establishes. Sitting in the summer grass with the species all around, I would run to pick up those who fall, and dance to the Plantae walse. Scent so knowingly fresh, like they have always been. So very watery and soft when you take a rich bite, filling the empty holes in my stomach, already craving for more nutrients. But be careful to not get overwhelmed, to not bite too deep. The core is not what it first seems.
Apricots.
Their kernel rock-hard. It's shell is closed and mysterious, like waiting for yet another night to fall. For another soul to snap, for another foul trap. Only if you knew what hides there. Only if you knew their kernel is poisonous. Rotten meat spread from the yellow brown core in a merciless and cruel trick.
Apricots, they are.
They choke a graze. With as little as four of the kernels, a human turns ill. Venomous, mischievous fruit, what might you want? What the apricots wanted to steal our attention with, pure delight of a wondrous fruit, they wanted to lure us too, with pain and poison and breathing sore. These can hold a heart, just as they hold a kernel. So please be careful, for your heart and for the kernel, for those might switch.
With the venomous kernel stuck inside your throat.
And with the apricot that, suddenly, has stolen your heart.