My husband wants to get rid of
what he sees as a gnarly eye sore...
and I see as a work of art...
both Season-art and Memory-art.
maybe because another old apple tree
from my childhood made me see this one
through wizened eyes...
This tree my Grandpa planted,
long before we bought it when we bought their house...
this tree my children climbed,
and now my grandchildren,
along with many others that passed through my care
Here's a bit of season-memory art...
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I didn't know the apple tree
of long ago would bend
With summer fruit,
long after the pursuits
Of youth would end
I didn't know the tree that taught
Us how to work and play
where apples fell
like yellow snow
would never go away
...where mother's apron bulged as we
Helped fill its cotton cart
With pungent gold,
That we could hold
Forever in the heart
Before I was blindsided by
Moment's momentous haste
I thought that Time
was on my side
With quite enough to waste
Before sentimental surprise
Took me in its embrace
And showed to me
An apple tree
Is never commonplace
© Janet Martin
This photo and memory tidbit from a previous post HERE
The Harvest-apple tree on the old home place.
How well I remember its petal-snow,
How well I remember its petal-snow,
before the dirt floor was covered in golden fruit,
gathered up in our cotton-dress 'baskets'
carried to the house for apple goodies,
but mostly canned apple sauce.
