Apple tree, apple tree.
Apple tree, apple tree
why are you sighing so plaintively
in the cold November wind?
"I am sighing because all my leaves and apples have deserted me
and my shadow looks so thin and frail in the pale gold sunlight."
Apple tree, do not be so foolish
before too long you will be clothed all in white
with diamonds glittering in your hair.
Fruit and leaves must fall away but will return again next year
greener, brighter, sweeter than ever,
nurtured by Winter's secret white power
and the mystical songs of snow.
If you did not know the long cold evenings of December
your leaves in Spring would not be quite so green
nor your apples quite so red and rosy.
Open wide your arms to the drifting white candle tongues of winter
and let them consume all lamentation
in their cold white flame
- the stars themselves sing no sweeter song
dressed in their brittle raiment of light.
In Winter they lean down close to the world
to admire the transformed Earth
and for apple trees they have a special love, I think
so put aside your mournful dirge.
Let the cold wind pass through your branches
and carry your thoughts upwards
to where the leaves and blossom of the sky await them.
Stark and cold your limbs might be
beneath their mantle of snow
but apples of unquenchable fire
cluster in profusion in the invisible heavens.
Apple tree, apple tree
why are you sighing so plaintively
in the cold November wind?
"I am sighing because all my leaves and apples have deserted me
and my shadow looks so thin and frail in the pale gold sunlight."
Apple tree, do not be so foolish
before too long you will be clothed all in white
with diamonds glittering in your hair.
Fruit and leaves must fall away but will return again next year
greener, brighter, sweeter than ever,
nurtured by Winter's secret white power
and the mystical songs of snow.
If you did not know the long cold evenings of December
your leaves in Spring would not be quite so green
nor your apples quite so red and rosy.
Open wide your arms to the drifting white candle tongues of winter
and let them consume all lamentation
in their cold white flame
- the stars themselves sing no sweeter song
dressed in their brittle raiment of light.
In Winter they lean down close to the world
to admire the transformed Earth
and for apple trees they have a special love, I think
so put aside your mournful dirge.
Let the cold wind pass through your branches
and carry your thoughts upwards
to where the leaves and blossom of the sky await them.
Stark and cold your limbs might be
beneath their mantle of snow
but apples of unquenchable fire
cluster in profusion in the invisible heavens.
The Poets Garret
WildCity Writers' Workshop
Poetry Challenges
Selected Poetry
