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Apple Picking Time

I sat beneath the apple tree,
had sketching pad upon my knee,
took colored pencils, pad in hand
to draw the beauty I could see.

Blunt pencil points I'd soon restored;
both eyes fixed on the laden tree,
I found the perfect subject worthy
of that day's pleasant drawing spree.

From drooping limbs smiled ripened fruit,
but on my pad just one crude sphere
became the globe that shone in red
and filled my mind and heart with cheer.

When done, I plucked my crisp reward,
the apple that had served as sitter,
turned it—before my crunching bite—
and then I saw the wormy critter—

a wormhole—and the alien head
peering from the tempting apple’s rind
contracting—stretching—contracting . . .
that worm bored deep into my mind

and I felt it’s setae’s tickle,
and I giggled, giggled, giggled,
imagining those tickling feet
of the worm that wriggled—wriggled.

Again, it’s apple picking time;
deep in my throat I feel the tickle
of all those tiny bristle feet
that make me giggle, giggle, giggle.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


Nice piece, funny. I like picking apples, and however have to watch out for the lil' buggers...

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yeah, one needs the skill of an astronaut to navigate those wormholes. Thanks for the laugh. Appreciated. Thanks, my friend. Van

author comment

If you could have only seen the delight on my face turn to revulsion the minute I read the last line of the fourth stanza...We got some mangos at the store once, and I took one and bit into it, but it was filled with worms, so I set it aside and the same thing happened with every other mango in the batch. D: I was a lot younger, otherwise I would have thought to cut them open first!!

Great poem, I like the rhyme and meter in it!

"The true alchemists do not turn lead into gold; they turn the world into words." -William H. Gass

I'm so sorry to have grossed you out, trust me, but my mom was a strict observer of my diet. " Eat your fruit and vegetables--and your protein," she was wont to say. So glad you read my somewhat ticklish poem. Thank you. Van.

author comment

For you to elicit such a reaction from me, the picture your poem painted was spot on!

"And your protein!" O.O XD

"The true alchemists do not turn lead into gold; they turn the world into words." -William H. Gass

your comments made me giggle, giggle, giggle! Thanks dear. Van

author comment
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