There Is No Substitute For What Is Present...
to view an apple in the internet
or climb an apple tree with many ripe apples
in cyberspace
they are nothing
compared to the ripe mango in my hands
to a virtual love that is described as true
love making vicarious
that is nothing compared to a kiss
that i planted on your
cheek of
peach
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Boasting About Trees
There you stood among other trees
In a garden of legendary emeralds
Your luxuriant leaves waving to the heavens
You arresting branches kissing the sky
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree
My enraptured eyes are still swimming in bliss
From the first time they saw you
Untouched, unspoiled and unsurpassed
Flora of such sublime character
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree
My heart swims in the deluge of desire
Sweet songs of attraction, passion and fire
It is you that awakens my appetite
My dulcet cynosure
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree
Others may boast of oranges and apples
Grapes and pears and pomegranates too
I will be silent until I talk of you
And from my lips will dropp the words
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree
poem by Howard Simon
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Apple Seed
Spring is here
love it so dear.
Being an apple seed,
and doing my good deed.
Keeping the doctor away,
for many years this tree will stay.
Just waiting for picking time
and watching workers as they climb.
Seed to apple so sweet
working so hard what a feat.
Apple cider to apple pie,
selling apples for people to buy.
Being an apple seed
and doing my good deed.
Being picked off this tree
from this place I will flee.
wrote 4-30-07
Apples
I love apples,
Apples have crunch,
Lovely red apples,
Red, pink color, punch.
I love apple pies,
Family ties,
I love apple juice,
I call it zapple juice,
Without the fizz,
Or sugary twist,
Healthy fibre, Apple is.
Pick me
Oh my goodness gracious me!
I am an apple on a tree
I'm ripe and red and swinging free
all on a sunny Sunday.
Here I am just right for pickin'
and there you are all far away
dreaming of a fair young maiden
while I dangle and I sway.
Don't you hear me swaying gently?
Don't you smell my fine perfume?
Dare I call you, beg you pick me,
all on a sunny day in June.
Daffodils and honey suckle
Birdies singin' in the trees
I am but a little apple,
pretty apple in a tree.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Our Tree
When spring comes round, our apple tree
Is very full of flowers,
And when a bird sits on a branch
The petals fall in showers.
When summer comes, our apple tree
Is very full of green,
And everywhere you look in it
There is a leafy screen.
When autumn comes, our apple tree
Is full of things to eat.
The apples hang from every branch
To tumble at our feet.
When winter comes, our apple tree
Is full of snow and ice
And rabbits come to visit it...
We think our tree is nice.
poem by Marchette Chute
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On Promising Fruitfulness of a Tree
A comely sight indeed it is to see
A world of blossoms on an apple-tree:
Yet far more comely would this tree appear,
If all its dainty blooms young apples were.
But how much more might one upon it see,
If all would hang there till they ripe should be.
But most of all in beauty 'twould abound,
If then none worm-eaten should there be found.
But we, alas! do commonly behold
Blooms fall apace, if mornings be but cold.
They too, which hang till they young apples are,
By blasting winds and vermin take despair,
Store that do hang, while almost ripe, we see
By blust'ring winds are shaken from the tree,
So that of many, only some there be,
That grow till they come to maturity.
Comparison.
This tree a perfect emblem is of those
Which God doth plant, which in his garden grows,
Its blasted blooms are motions unto good,
Which chill affections do nip in the bud.
Those little apples which yet blasted are,
Show some good purposes, no good fruits bear.
Those spoiled by vermin are to let us see,
How good attempts by bad thoughts ruin'd be.
Those which the wind blows down, while they are green,
Show good works have by trials spoiled been.
Those that abide, while ripe upon the tree,
Show, in a good man, some ripe fruit will be.
Behold then how abortive some fruits are,
Which at the first most promising appear.
The frost, the wind, the worm, with time doth show,
There flows, from much appearance, works but few.
poem by John Bunyan
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Red Apple, Red Apple
Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer
Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole
Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?
Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste
Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple
poem by John McAdam
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Bony Moronie
Yeah!
Oh!
I got a girl named bony moronie,
Shes as skinny as a stick of macoroni.
Got to see her rock and roll with her blue jeans on,
Shes not very fat, just skin and bone.
Huh!
Well, now I love her and she loves me,
Oh, how happy now were gonna be,
Making love underneath the apple tree, oh!
Well, I told her mama and her papa, too,
Just exactly what Im gonna do.
Were gonna get married on a night in june,
Rock and roll by the light of the silvery moon.
Well, yeah!
Well, now I love her and she loves me,
Oh, how happy now were gonna be,
Making love underneath the apple tree, hey!
Huh! hey, hey, hey!
Well, shes my one and only, shes my hearts desire.
Shes a real upsetter, shes a real live wire.
Evrybodys watching when my baby walks by,
Shes so good looking, really catches the eye.
Huh! oh!
Yes!
Let em in!
Well, now I love her, she loves me,
Oh, how happy now were gonna be,
Making love underneath the apple tree.
Yeh, yeh, underneath the apple!
Making love, yeh!
Making love!
Making love, harder!
Harder!
Harder!
Harder!
Oh, baby!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bony Moronie
Yeah!
Oh!
I got a girl named bony moronie,
Shes as skinny as a stick of macoroni.
Got to see her rock and roll with her blue jeans on,
Shes not very fat, just skin and bone.
Huh!
Well, now I love her and she loves me,
Oh, how happy now were gonna be,
Making love underneath the apple tree, oh!
Well, I told her mama and her papa, too,
Just exactly what Im gonna do.
Were gonna get married on a night in june,
Rock and roll by the light of the silvery moon.
Well, yeah!
Well, now I love her and she loves me,
Oh, how happy now were gonna be,
Making love underneath the apple tree, hey!
Huh! hey, hey, hey!
Well, shes my one and only, shes my hearts desire.
Shes a real upsetter, shes a real live wire.
Evrybodys watching when my baby walks by,
Shes so good looking, really catches the eye.
Huh! oh!
Yes!
Let em in!
Well, now I love her, she loves me,
Oh, how happy now were gonna be,
Making love underneath the apple tree.
Yeh, yeh, underneath the apple!
Making love, yeh!
Making love!
Making love, harder!
Harder!
Harder!
Harder!
Oh, baby!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Love Is
Boys tactics cannot be compared to what love is
Neither can the exchange of humans be compared to what love is
Love is when you go to the furthest extent there is for the one who is yours
Love is when you tell your spouse you love them with all your might everyday
Love is when you sacrifice yourself for anything he/she wants
Girls tactics cannot be compared to what love is
Neither can the exchange of humans be compared to what love is
Love is when you make mistakes but apologize over and over again until you get the words 'I'm sorry' engraved in their head
Love is when you are not afraid to wear the sweater that they made for you out in public
Love is when sacrifice your own time for them
Boys and girls tactics cannot be compared to what love is
Neither can the exchange of humans be compared to what love is
Love is when you know you are loved even before they tell you they love you
Love is when you know every single detail about them
Love is when you know they'll sacrifice their time and themselves even when times are rough and you don't know what to do
poem by Kamilla Davila
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Busheled Together
See those apples hanging ripe,
All yet to fall...
From that one tree.
Even though they appear,
To look the same...
If one should examine closer,
Each would have a unique and distinct...
Quality.
Although on that one tree,
One may declare...
Them to have similar identities.
Upon tasting from those apples picked,
One will come to a core...
With seeds inside of it.
And delicious is a sweetness,
When the juice is licked.
But when busheled together from that one tree,
Some may have blemishes.
While others upon inspection may be blemish free.
And all of them have been witnessed,
To be the product of the same tree.
See those apples hanging ripe,
All yet to fall...
From that one tree.
Even though they appear,
To look the same...
If one should examine closer,
Each would have a unique and distinct...
Quality.
And when busheled together,
They are all apples.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree
Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
Don't go walking down lovers lane
With anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Don't go walking down lovers lane
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
I just got word from a guy who heard
From the guy next door to me
The girl he met just loved to pet
And fits you to a "T"
So don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
Don't give out with those lips of yours
To anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Watch the girls on the foreign shores
You'll have to report to me
When you come marching home
You're on your own
When there is no phone and I can't keep tab on you
Be fair to me I'll garuantee
This is one thing that I'll do
I won't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but you
'til you come marching home
Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
I know the apple tree
Is reserved for you and me
And I'll be true
'til you come marching home
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspiration from Newton's law....
The story
goes like this…
There is an apple, and
there is a tree. “The apple, ” it
is said, “does not fall far from the tree.”
So why is it…when I look up at the tree,
that has shaded and sheltered me;
Why don’t I see apples?
When
I look
up,
I
see
instead,
a glorious nut tree.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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Sweet Sour Apple Bites
Orchard of apple and variety
Here you come, the apples lover
Come sing and praise like always
'Shining around the skin
Your colour is my favorite apple
The fresh one
So is your taste'
Apples smile and sing
'If i am green
A sweet sour love
Bite one, bite two
Bite still
Taste me my apples lover
Taste my sweet sour love
I'm green and sour
Pluck me bite me my lover'
The hunter replies
Bite one and some
Tasted your sour love
Bite still because i am the apple lover'
Apples smile continue the song
'If i am red apple
Sweet and moist
Bite one, then two
Bite more
Taste my sweet life
I'm red and taste nice
Bite one bite some
Taste me sweet you will like it'
'Green or Red
Bite sweet or bite sour
I must love you my apples
simply because...
I am the true apple lover'
Explained hunter
Sweet red or sour green
Sugar rich energy will reach your heart sooner
Running in your blood and pump the beat so dear
'O apples my dear i grow you in orchard to be with me so near'
Confessed by gardener, before apple answered
'You work hard and love so sincere, will fruit you love every year'
Bite one, sweet or sour everyday
Promise keeps you away from doctor
Bite one Bite some Bite all say the lover
Energy, Protect you always said apple
If you love something, make it further
This is what apple and hunter tell you, No Fears
Credit to Ahmed Khaled to point some issues of apples
so what i can say here it was inspired by Ahmed Khaled and fair to say this is our collaboration. Took of the chance to dedicate this poem for Steve, Co founder of Apple...All his courage to chase his dream is what i really called as an apple lover...
Meaning of this poem,
I want to talk about 'Do what you want' choose what you like
It's not all about apples, it is about...if you have a dream (your future)
make it real either you taste it difficult or easy you will always enjoyed it
just like i tell you in the story, green or red, sweet or sour
the apple hunter/gardener still like it, why simple cause the hunter like it
..As you know what you like and nod for the challenge, you will
get satisfied with what are you having, doing...it's your favorite choice
..Include the words 'An apple a day keeps doctor away' hoping you
understand, you will safe and satisfy if you choose the path you like
and you will safe from regret..Chase your dream :) _Unwritten Soul
poem by Unwritten Soul
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The Laughing Apple
Slowly let me tell you a story of a tree
An apple tree,
Once in a summertime garden lived a little apple tree
And the man who owned it wanted it to be picked
So he sent forth to hire me
Well, Ive travelled the mountains, and Ive travelled the sea
But a never in my travelling days
Have I ever seen a little apple smile at me!
Laugh, oh laugh a little apple
Autumn is waitin, youd better be careful,
For it will bring you down
If it ever sees you wearing a frown
So laugh, laugh a little apple
Well all the apples were hidin
Frightened that they might be plucked
And everytime that somebody passed
All except that one little apple ducked
Well, Ive travelled the mountains, and Ive travelled the sea
But a never in my travelling days
Have I ever seen a little apple smile at me!
Laugh, oh laugh a little apple
Autumn is waitin, youd better be careful,
For it will bring you down
If it ever sees you wearing a frown
So laugh, laugh a little apple
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman is like a mango
A girl is a mango infantile,
That tastes in pickles.
A lass is about ripe mango,
That tastes in curries.
A woman is a ripe mango,
That tastes with its flesh.
At forties as juice and at fifties
As jelly, she lingers to my taste.
Even in sixties, she is like mango-essence.
In seventies, as endosperm of its nut
She still taste though differently.
Woman to men is evergreen.
29.05.2001, Berhampur
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Apple Orchard
A sunny afternoon, with blanket spread,
Beneath some apple trees, with ample shade,
We'd sit with tray of tea and gingerbread,
Scones with cream, and these were freshly homemade.
Apples hung above us, each ripe and red,
So colourful, they somehow set the scene.
Sampling strawberry jam on thin sliced shortbread,
We'd lay and watch the leaves, with sun between.
Peaceful lazy days were these, and so free,
Whiling away hours, with paint and book,
Our orchard, where under a favoured tree,
We'd relish Peter Pan and Captain Hook.
Those rosy apples, that we'd all consume,
And savour juicy flesh so soft and sweet,
Eating them until we had no more room,
Those halcyon days were to us a treat.
Dappled sunshine sparkled amids the boughs,
And danced on, with a gentle pleasing sway,
Oh What I would give to again just browse,
In that apple orchard, for one more day.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Sound Of Children
it is their sound that makes
this world lovable still
under the mango tree
when the wind starts to blow
when the ripe mangoes fall
to the ground and the children
starts to scramble for their
share of the ripe ones.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Apple Scruffs
Now Ive watched you sitting there
Seen the passers-by all stare
Like you have no place to go
But theres so much they dont know about apple scruffs
Youve been stood around for years
Seen my smiles and touched my tears
How its been a long, long time
And how youve been on my mind, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
In the fog and in the rain
Through the pleasures and the pain
On the step outside you stand
With your flowers in your hand, my apple scruffs
While the years they come and go
Now, your love must surely show me
That beyond all time and space
Were together face to face, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peach
Soft is the
Skin
Of the ripe peach,
So gently,
I will coarse
My
Innocent hands
Through
It's fine hair
Caressing
It's
Curving surface.
How
I wish for a bite.
Soft is the
Skin
Of the ripe peach.
Sweet it is
To savor.
In
My hand, I hold
It,
Waiting to
Treasure it's
Taste.
My tongue is teased.
How
I wish for a bite.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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