As a young girl she would go
into the orchard, into the orchard
and when the firm red apples
were ready to fall, ready to fall
she picked them from the loam red soil
from the loam red soil.
In her apron they bulged and rolled
bulged and rolled.
When firm red apples began to fall
she picked them from the loam red soil.
Now as she shuffles behind a trolley
into the supermarket, into the market
where cold leather-skinned apples lie
packed in the rack, packed in the rack;
she takes them in their Styrofoam pack
in their Styrofoam pack.
In her trolley they lie trussed and tight
all trussed and tight.
When firm red apples began to fall
she picked them from the loam red soil.
In bed tonight in nightgown dreams
into the orchard, into the orchard
she goes and feels the sun warmed apples
rolling glowing red, rolling glowing red.
They drop and roll about her bed
drop and roll about her bed.
Young dream legs chase them down
chase them down.
When firm red apples began to fall
she picked them from the loam red soil.
WOW! A scintillating poem, Adrian. I started to read this and wanted straightly rereading it again. You conjured magic, I so admired. Thank you for sharing this dashing poem. God's Blessings in Abundance for you. A 10 and much much more.
Beautiful painted, Beautifully expressed! .. Thank you ever so much for sharing this! .. Ever so very many many 10S! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ....................+++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sublimest Anaphora poem, I have enjoyed very much having sung this dashing song once again. Thank yiou for sharing, Adrian.