Poems

FALLEN APPLES

‘O Love, be fed with apples while you may. . .’
                                                     Robert Graves



For years forbidden fruits were those that tempted,
I rescued untold numbers from the grass;
But often perfect skins, when moved, proved rotten –
Wasp-blown, fleshless, empty, couldn’t last.

It’s taken quite a time to learn the lesson,
(I judge me harshly, knowing me so well);
But that knowledge that the tree of life should give us?
Just know it wasn’t Eve alone that fell.