Apple Tree Tale
Published Fri Feb 09, 2018 | Posted in Poetry | By Linda Jenkinson |
Though he wasn’t Johnny Appleseed
He climbed an apple tree for me.
A slip of foot, tossed him to sky
And we both found he could not fly.
Twas more than just an arm he broke.
First love shattered, though we spoke
Not a word of its demise.
We parted then with teary eyes.
Later, his arm in a cast
We met, but love was in the past,
For crushes are but gentle things
And when fractured, they sprout wings.
Unlike true love that can withstand
Damage dealt by fate’s cold hand
And like a seed remain in place
To become a tree, with strength and grace