Apples

Sitting in the crotch of a tree, eating a green apple
Legs dangling, I sprinkle salt on a green apple
An apple falls to the ground
She has cheeks, rosy like an apple, that's Lynn
Apple after apple sliced for pie
The apple knew it would end up in a barrel, down cellar
Every apple on that tree was salvaged
I picked up every apple on the ground, put it in a bucket
Celia's face, round as an apple
We had a fight, with each apple flying like a baseball
The apple looked delicious,
until I saw the worm had beaten me to it

The last apple on the tree, looked lonesome
Turned me off, like a sour apple, but recovering,
I said something nice, at least I thought it was nice

I wouldn't know what to choose, the apple or the pear
I picked a bag of peaches but it wasn't like picking apples
An apple was always on the table
In the summer, blueberries, in the fall, apples, pies, cakes
I scraped the apple peel with my teeth as she cut
Apple starts with A and well it might, for
We roll down the hill, like a bunch of apples

The crab apple was easy to eat, I liked the sourness
I often wondered why it was called crab apple
and not oyster apple or crayfish apple
One of our trees produced an apple that I didn't like as a child
the russet apple, was it the color?
I can't eat apples anymore, except thin slices
Applesauce is one of my favorite things to cook
not having learned to cook
I'm fond of apple cake and good apple juice
but not apple cider

Celia had a granddaughter Karen, the "apple of her eye"
Little did Karen know she was the cause of a rift
between mother and grandmother
but she calmly went on eating her apple

Celia made the greatest apple pie, in our oven,
while my mother baked her bread

Thelma gave me her lunch box to clean,
which was my job for a nickel,
a half apple was there today
Ernie ran by me and grabbed the apple from my hand

I love to see the piles of various apples
-- delicious, golden, grandmother, red, yellow, green –
right beside the piles of other fruit in the grocery store

Telling a story the way it was told to me by my first-grade teacher,
to a great audience in my kitchen,
my brother Joe came by and grinning, his devilish grin,
ran through and threw the words out,
"Applesauce."