Ruth Walters

Pick Me - Poem by Ruth Walters

Oh my goodness gracious me!
I am an apple on a tree
I'm ripe and red and swinging free
all on a sunny Sunday.

Here I am just right for pickin'
and there you are all far away
dreaming of a fair young maiden
while I dangle and I sway.

Don't you hear me swaying gently?
Don't you smell my fine perfume?
Dare I call you, beg you pick me,
all on a sunny day in June.

Daffodils and honey suckle
Birdies singin' in the trees
I am but a little apple,
pretty apple in a tree.

Comments about Pick Me by Ruth Walters

  • (9/14/2012 8:40:00 AM)

    Even apples know their place in the scheme of things, save for worms and a bath of poison then a special gift for a dwarf cohabitating nubile virgin. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, August 24, 2012

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