Apples sit up in the apple trees, bumping together in the breeze,
Rosie cheeks in the warm suns light, huddled together on a cold dark night.
Singing songs when no one can hear with the blackbirds or a passing deer.
Chatting to the hedgehogs who plea, come down so i can eat you for my tea!
Children throw sticks or dare to climb a up high, eating apples in the summer sky.
In the spring fog, or early morning haze, we are happy being apples, and ripen in the golden suns rays.
Mr maggot don't do it! Don't enter me and make me bad or you mr bird, pecking holes will make me sad.
Let me grow up to be a shiny polished prize, I want to see the joy in my owners eyes.
GH Bunce ©2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem