The picked red apples, dazzled by the golden sun, glistened
Where they were held beside an old barn in their, wooden bins.
At Christmas red and green orchard colors often are worn.
From simple apples some pure delights of autumn are born.
The shining sun way up in the sky is our biggest star
But I love when bright apples top my table best by far!
Gayle Sweeney's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Apples by Gayle Sweeney )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Of All Those, Luis Estable
- I Like It There, Luis Estable
- Rains, Rimni chakravarty
- My Surprise, Luis Estable
- Untitled, Jervin Timothy
- The Photo, Kenneth Winstanley
- Really funny!, PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- Daddy, Rimni chakravarty
- Colourless light contains all the colour.., Mohammad Siddiqui
- come on, laxami Cards