Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Sweet Apple Tree

In the Spring the bark bursts
Unfurling crumpled white handkerchiefs
Which look longingly to the sun
Awaiting the eager bees
The dewdrop mirror
The satin soft caress of the breeze

In the Summer she shows
Her best side to the sky
With a sigh her duty toils
Producing a perfect sweet
Blush skinned apple

In the Autumn she has given
Up her leaves to rot and curl
To gnawing caterpillar teeth
Drooped low to the dank aging
Disspated grass

In the Winter she waits
Hidden inside a frosty sheath
Pooling her resources
Preparing her smile behind the snow
To Spring foward afresh

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