Apple Tree Poem by Colin Ian Jeffery

There is an apple tree, old and gnarled
At the bottom of my garden, again in bloom
On which in childhood my brother and I played
Climbing high and low, swinging on branches
Laughing, full of fun, chasing each other
Loving, enjoying each other's company.
Sweet memories of a brother long dead
Dying of heart-attack in his sixty-first year.
Tree, century old, reminder of my brother
Giving September crop of sweet apples.
Now, in my old age has become a shrine
Where I often go to sit beneath on sunny days
And if I listen very hard I hear happy cries
Of my brother and myself, climbing high and low.