LXXXI
All through the Spring and Summer
We tend our apple tree
We feed and fertilise it
And keep the ground weed-free.
But now that Summer's over
And Autumn days have come
We have apples by the hundred
Apples by the ton.
We've boxes full of apples
In neat and tidy rows,
And every time I turn my back
The apple mountain grows.
Apples stewed and crumbled
Home made apple pie,
I don't think I can use them all
No matter how I try.
Apples pulped and frozen
Gallons of home-made wine.
We are not short of apples
But I am short of time.
Apples are pressed on friends who call,
What we need is a buyer,
But has the apple mountain shrunk?
No, it's grown even higher.
Stewed apples with custard,
Stewed apples with cream,
If I eat one more apple
I'm sure I'll turn pale green.
To B.C.
Remembering your bumper harvest,
Oct.1980
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