The Apple Poem by Marshall E Gass

The crunch sounds loud and the juice dribbles
down my chin
as I slurp the lip smacking taste
of sugar sensed tastebuds
tickling and tempting
so is my woman.

From tree to knee
to me grown up and rounded
curved spheres and orbs red
strong to hold and behave
so is my woman

when complete the core
still hangs in an hourglass shape
waiting for that last nibble
that crunch and munch
face in nibbling
so is my woman

the apple of my eye.
The fruit of my garden
The basket of resplendent beauty
snuggled and nested
warm or cold
so is my woman
the apple of my eye.