Lady K Milla Aug 17

How I used to crawl under your sheets
To find those toes wiggling free
And those legs like long trees
With echoes of giggles you would plea
To have me climb my way up
From your ticklish roots
To your savoring apples

Grim's Golden can take the pressure
when its cider that you're making,
but pies and other sweet treasures
I’d use Granny smith when baking.

when you make applesauce from scratch
use a bushel of Paula red,
for candy apples by the batch
I would use pink lady instead

Liberty will melt in your mouth
as a Butter, Jam and preserve
but a Gala grown in the south
use in a pork chop hors d'oeuvre

Feel good in your skin
Ready to take on the world
Don't let it eat you

©LadyofRavenhill 2017
Haiku #37

Anna Apples

Apples, which last week made the orchard trees
A festival of red among the green,
Are disappearing now, and hard to find
And hard to reach, high up and hidden away

Their joyful season is fading in early June
Their mothering trees are in mourning now
For the late-winter blooms that grew so soon
And ripened into transient perfection

Like happy children playing hide-and-seek
They slip away into the leaves and years

Anna is a type of apple designed in 1959 or so for warm climates.  My Gulf coast yard is blessed with seven Anna trees who provide apples during the month of June and beauty all year 'round.  Apples also lend themselves to all sorts of symbolism - here, children and the transience of childhood
Atrisia Dec 2016

It's hard to believe eating an apple got us here sometimes

That the blame game was in that which Eve ate.
That the tasting with ones mouth has a direct link to seeing how naked one can be...

Until your lips fall on another's...

'Cause I blame you for the way I feel, dear.
I've never felt this emotionally bare..
Now I need you to cloth me with love..


Note:

Why apples are great for practicing kissing
Myriah Sep 2016

There's a chill in the air
it's sweater weather
autumn is here!
I'm going to do some
October things  
I wanna  jump in  in pile  of crisp leaves and
go apple picking
in the orchard
I can smell autumn
dancing in the breeze

A Santos Sep 2016

I take a bite
one, two, three
wishing i was snow white
please fall in love with me

but you love the beast
and i have to glue on a smile
wishing i was deceased
won't you consider me even for a while?

if i played dead
like snow white did
bit that apple so red
while my feelings stay hid

would you kiss me
even if you thought chances were nil?

when i wake and you set me free,
will you love the beast still?

JGuberman Aug 2016

Between the songs of the Nighthawk
and the Mourning Dove
the sound of apples beneath us
and sirens rushing  between
life and death,
we lay together in the darkness
like two blind people reading love poetry.

Knit Personality Aug 2016

Pickin’ apples off the tree:
that’s me,
ya see,
writin’ poetry
about all things Autumn.
I look for the ripest reds,
those ruddy red-heads
that caught ’em
a stubborn
sunburn
a sunny summery September afternoon,
when the white horn of the moon
was floating by
in the sea-deep deep-blue sky.
I pluck ’em
and plunk ’em
into a barrel
while singing a carol
to Autumn.

Pickin’ apples off the tree:
that’s me,
ya see,
tryna be Keatsy.
But it defeats me:
I try at it
but die at it.

If apples were pears
And peaches were plums
And the rose had a different name.

If tigers were bears
And fingers were thumb,
I'd love you just the same.

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