Pearls Before Swine Poem by Mark Heathcote

These apples are pearls before swine.
Like Gretel discarding breadcrumbs,
Eve has taken to discarding apples.
Ripe and rosy as the day is long.

Her arms are heavily laden.
Tired of walking, wanting her sleep
But Eve still has wild orchards.
To visit and go scrumping.

Wanting only to dance beneath
Their untainted white blossoms
To reach for the moon and stars
And receive her strength and faith.

Hold death in her arms.
Rocked in a cradle
Later to be discarded like garbage
Like an apple core devoured.

That is abandoned in a forest.
Like a white butterfly
Born of purity, innocence,
With a seed of something to eternally grow.

Following a path back to who knows where
A house made of bread, cake, and sugar.
Running from a stepmother,
A woodcutter or to a God who will not forsake her.