Love’s Temptation (The Apple) Poem by Amy Hurst

There’s always one apple left in the dainty fruit bowl
That is never eaten,
Yet never grows old.
Its skin is varnished like a crystal or glass.
You thought it would tarnish,
Yet a year has gone passed.

You've seen fruits decay, but none such as this.
On their graves it does lay,
And it basks in their bliss.
You're drawn towards it, and struggle in spite.
You know if you held it,
You would take a bite.

Your hand reaches near, you believe it is fate.
The intention is clear,
Is it too late?
Its beauty you adore, but temptation does grow.
You've felt this before,
From loves that you've known.

You encounter it each day, it distroys your own heart.
You wish it to stay,
And never to part.
And so you just think of its heavenly kisses.
You write it in ink,
Which the apple dismisses.

You look back and vanquish each stupid mistake.
You seek out and punish,
Each attempt you did make.
You told him you loved him, you waited and prayed.
Your chances were slim,
Yet your love will not faid.

So with one last attempt to strike at his heart.
You tryed to pretend,
Someone else was less smart.
But all your games fail and your heart's gone a miss.
Now your so weak and too frail,
From the apple you can't kiss.

And so as your coffin fills with regret.
You notice your skin,
Grows so cold, and so wet.
Of the two only one must lay in a grave.
The time has now come,
Goodbye love's dear slave.