Hugh Sexey - Harvest
Cider Story

Apples go up get crushed
Then are dropped back down
Spread by hand
As layers and layers are piled on
Cheese cloths soak it up then let go
Left only with pomace for the cattle
A treat of half cardboard apple.
-- Hesham Afifi --

A Somerset Orchard

Glastonbury Tor
Tall and grey
Across the sea
Of patchwork fields.

Closer towards me
Green and red
Apple trees
In a Somerset Orchard.
-- Samantha Chinnock --

Hanging Hovering and Humming

A clear blue sky not a cloud in sight
A high hot sun shining bright over head
Apples hanging in every tree glistening in the light

Dragonflies hovering above the long green grass
A light breeze moving amongst the green apple trees
Juicy apples falling all over the orchard

Bees humming as they buzz through the air
Birds flying through the sky
The rich smell of cider apples as they are pressed to make juice.
-- Martha Emeney --

Group Poems
Apple Orchard

Red apples, green apples, sweet apples, sour
All these apples spread wide across the grass
In many different colours
The wet grass gets kicked into the sky
As we walked up into the orchard
Some of the trees slanted and some are straight
Red apples, green apples, sweet apples, sour
-- Robbie Marshall --

The cider and the apple

The smell of cider wafts through the air
The press is mounted with crushed apples
As the darkness falls around me in the gloom
Men spread the apple on the press and cover it with cloth
Boarded up with a slab of wood
Men do this 11 or 12 times
This ancient place towers over me
Dark and gloomy
Coldness comes over thee
Apple juice sweet sour and sharp
Pours out of the bottom
Pushed along the rails
Squeezed out even more
Just to be fermented.
-- Jenna Purves --

Biting into a cider apple

Sour and crunchy
Yet sweet in cider
Thousands fill the glass
Sacks of them piled by the trees
Soon to be changed into flowing cider

Tangy skins
Soft inside
Sometimes green
And sometimes rosie
Gallons of cider to be made

Quiet and peaceful
Air full of sweetness
The cockerel sounds its call
In the middle of October
The sun is shining
Ripening the apples sweet

Trees everywhere
Filled with apples
The farmers are coming to collect them
Yet some are left on the ground
For animals to feast on.
-- Serin Rayner --

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