"It'll probably blow."
I skoff - cause I know
them apples ain't quite ready, yet.
When temp. dropped below,
I pushed the door slow -
ice crystals froze where once wet.
With a coat of fresh snow,
and stiff lawn below,
The trees were quiet and still.
Ripe fruit hanging low,
the wind did not blow,
I paused in awe of the chill.
All froze in a row,
with red apple glow,
makes me want to go lick'em.
A fresh cup of joe
to liven my flow
and thought "Maybe it's time I go pick'em!"
them apples ain't quite ready, yet.
When temp. dropped below,
I pushed the door slow -
ice crystals froze where once wet.
With a coat of fresh snow,
and stiff lawn below,
The trees were quiet and still.
Ripe fruit hanging low,
the wind did not blow,
I paused in awe of the chill.
All froze in a row,
with red apple glow,
makes me want to go lick'em.
A fresh cup of joe
to liven my flow
and thought "Maybe it's time I go pick'em!"
jdplumma
3 opinionated prattle:
Great picture and for the first time, I can vouch that it is an authenic picture and the apples were pretty good as well! Cute poem. Thanks for putting us up for a couple of days!
I can't believe you've got snow already, better get them red globes picked.
Warren and Natalie would love to come pick those apples for you....boy do they make a beautiful picture.
Post a Comment
If you feel the incessant urge,
and your tongue is sharp and quick,
leave a worthless thought for me
whether cool, or fun, or sick.