Apple Plucking Poem by Methmi Mandara

Basket hanging on my hand
Went to a magical land in the spring
Huge apple trees where I stand
In the morning dew breeze

Ruby red apples shining ripe
Some smile pink as a blush of a bride
Crystal pellet of water droplets
Is a bead necklace embellishing the fruits

The ground haul some of them
Where it slides and chop
Or be fruit to the little vermin
Who widen their mouth to flavor

I plucked some apples
To fill my bucket
Some were blowing the space of my pocket
Ah, luscious apples, so sweet and ripe
Apple plucking, or is this heaven?