The Apple

The green of an apple is a forth coming blessing
With its confirmed ripeness our lips begin the pressing
But remember to address it for any worms
Less in thy mouth they wiggle and squirm
For like bleu cheese dressing the experience is quit depressing
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Gooden Avatar
August 16, 2012 at 3:50 PM
Ha, I can imagine that. Nice.
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace