Picking Apples
Seasons for apples, apples alone,
Red, green, yellow, colours, shades and tone
amongst fallen leaves with traits their own,
musty smell of autumn so well known!
She picked each red with smile so sweet,
amidst wide eyed squirrels, robin tweet,
although child of nine she was elder,
on tow behind her, little brother.
He jumped on apples to squash for fun,
chased squirrels as fast as he could run,
He rolled to change colour with season,
was just five, isn't that good reason?
a snapshot of moment will endure,
for brother, a sister’s love so pure,
smile on her face, twinkle in her eye,
that autumnal day with crisp blue sky.
role she did that mother did entrust,
pick apples for sale, day of august,
brother was an additional task,
a love she would fulfil without ask!
both homebound now after a good yield,
sister with brother across the field,
love and life that day had special show,
sunset put season further aglow.
mother welcomed her home with such pride,
“one day you will be lucky prince’s bride!
You took care of your brother so well,
Your deep love for him we can all tell.”
She smiled in such joyous radiance,
she said with looks that spoke in silence,
“Apples come and go with each season!
but I shall love him - all occasions.”
written 29/09/2023
9 syllables each line
8 stanzas of 4 lines each
N/A in Apple Picking poetry contest
(Robert James Liquori sponsored)
Reposted for Brian Strand’s unplaced poetry contest 15/10/23
|