In a valley deep, where the sun does shine, Lies a farm called Airaya, in Brentwood, so fine. Its fruit so sweet, its peaches so rare, A bounty of nature, beyond compare.
Families come from near and far, To pick their own, from the trees. The scent of fruit, fills the air, As trees sway gently, without a care.
One day, young Maya came to play, With her family, on a sunny day. They wandered the rows, in awe they stood, At the sight of peaches, ripe and good.
Maya plucked a peach, so soft and sweet, Its flavor divine, a delicious treat. Juice ran down her chin, as she took a bite, In that moment, everything felt right.
With baskets full, they bid adieu, To Airaya, in Brentwood, and the memories they knew. For in that orchard, beneath the sky, They found joy and love, that would never die.
Delicious, healthy, tree ripened, and farm fresh, Airaya's peaches, a true summer's refresh.
