Apple Tree.

Part of the Priory Cottage series.

Standing in the orchard, not

overly tall yet wide

bowing branches

flowing down, wash

across the tumbled grass.


Offering with silent pride

the bounty that was hers.


Joyously cascading 

and twinkling at the

sun, her fruits, as rich and

red as rubies adorn

her emerald cloak.

© sweetwater 2023
UKA Editor's Pick!
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This is lovely
It reminds me of the mostly gone orchards in Kent with their grassy floor and grazing sheep beneath


These scenes are often in the back of our minds, and your poem brings them forward, Sweetwater.

This made me reminisce about a place I knew when I was around seven or eight years of age at boarding school in Northamptonshire.



very good and relaxing poem by a class poetess

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