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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.
Anne Kho Aug 2016
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.
Phil Lindsey Mar 2016
I was hungry. Starving, actually.
I spied an apple in an apple tree,
It looked so very good to me,
Though it was high as it could be.
So I took a ladder to the tree,
And climbed it, oh, so carefully,
And when I was close as close could be,
I reached out, but it was plain to see,
That a worm got there ahead of me!

But I used to hear my Granny say,
"An apple a day keeps the doctor away."
So I climbed down, and what can I say,
I ate the apple anyway!

PwL  3/13/16
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
As a footnote, I’ve always held a certain regard for those plentiful fruits. Raspberries. Small and juicy and sweet. Quick and easy.

Now, it’s apples on the other hand I heavily despise.

To eat an apple is to make a commitment. Society generally frowns upon those who eat half an apple, just to toss out the rest. And most people are not exactly bargaining for your leftovers once they’re brown and teeth marked. Apple eating is a long and rigorous ordeal. Halfway through, the raw parts begin to stain or dry and when you’re finally finished, you’ve still got to deal with that core and the skin that’s stuck in your teeth. Herein, apples and commitments become synonymous. Convenience, the antonym.

Raspberries, however, are miniature, and zesty, and only last for a matter of seconds.

**Not unlike ideal high school relationships.
An excerpt from my novel - Pretense.

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016.)
Jose Rodriguez Dec 2015
From the opening act you stayed quite in the back
gripping to blank maps and crafts under the dunce cap
Son you're hoping for facts, get a diet cut the crap
looking through stats mad you hunger what you once had
It used to be so perfect and yet nothing has changed
The treatment always urgent, the illness always staged
Rockie Sep 2015
I miss the girl that I once knew
The girl with hair blonder than dust
And cheeks rounder than apples

I miss the girl that I once knew
The girl with nerves of a wet napkin
And legs clumsier than spaghetti

I miss the girl I once knew
The girl who always did what she was told
And was always afraid to speak

I miss the girl I once knew,
That's all true.
But she grew up.
And I don't miss that little girl so much
Anymore.
Rob Kingston Aug 2015
A cuckoo sings its first spring voice
The cider maker cracks his cork on this year’s choice
English apples presented from pre years press
Picked and selected to impress
Bottled and ready for drinkers wide and far
Vision distorting with every jar

From orchards up and down the land
Drinkers search the best in town
Scrumpy be the drinkers rot
Weak willed should try it not

A test once tasted of a brewers fare
An enjoyment discovered but just take care
For once you have past the half way mark
You’ll soon be singing and dancing with the larks
This poem is my first to be published on air by BBC Essex, Mark Punter's Show, Read by the well known poetess Shirley baker. 23.8.15
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