The Apple

An Original Poem by Rishabh Sharma

The plump, red, delectable, delight, reclining in the tree

Oh how I longed to savor its closeness to me

The promise of its sweet, sugary juice running on my lips

The exhilaration which magically manifests on my fingertips

For I could only imagine how this glee would be

As that edible sphere was still in the recesses of that cavernous tree




So I snatched a branch, which had fallen to the ground

In my attempt to snag this coveted object which I had just found

But alas, my reach tipped me over, with the stick I did fall

Spied from the ground, the tree had never before seemed this tall

I floundered, rose, not wishing to waste any valuable time

For this tree I simply had to be prepared to climb




The rugged, brown bark of the tree gave fresh blisters to my palm

It was all worth the tumble and toss, for the prize close to my soul saw me calm

The bouquet of morning dew and the crunch of delight could be felt through my body

The thrill of the chase created in my smile, something tantalizingly gaudy

I managed to finagle the object after a very short, yet desperate grapple

At last, to my utmost surprise, I finally had my beautiful red apple