The Apple.

The apple that fell from the sky

Rolled a bit to surprise 

The little things went by 

In between the yellow and pink lie

A little poem to another sing

Untold the good much untold

All that came and went by wing 

Exchange by hand vow and gold

It began with the apple said to note

None now standing exist but by wit

Script was gold words carried wrote

The thought of the fruit uneaten bit

The other muddy red branch touches

About balancing its leafy ledges of fall

Orange with swirling colors bunch’s 

Hold to the coming baskets call.

(C)

Daniel A McMahon.