Hugh Sexey - Harvest
Apples Falling

Apples falling from trees around
Landing on the grassy ground
Bags of apples all different types
Packed together all nice and ripe
Dragon flies buzz as they fly by
Green leaves from trees cover the sky.
-- Rosie Hodgson --

The apples

A pitter-patter of little feet
As we trek up the almost mountain-like hill
To our astonishment the blossom was gone
Not a trace
But now the apples grow in full
I walk on a carpet of red, green and yellow apples
Slipping and sliding I get to the top
From there I can see across the levels
Kingston Black and Dunkerton's Late
Lovely cider they do make
We taste the cider from the crusher
It is amazing
As the day ends I am glad I've been
I'm privileged to see the things I've seen.
-- George Cressy --

As far as you can see

Glastonbury Tor towers in the distance,
Like the king of the land
A shield of hills
Protecting this little orchard

The fluffy clouds not seeming that high up
Like a vibrant ceiling
With a soft velvet carpet of grass
And fallen apples

Then I see the apple trees
Scattered across the orchard
Oddly shaped but beautiful
In their own way

All around me is peace and quiet
No roaring of car engines
Just the birds singing
And Roger Wilkins deep laugh.
-- Eve Taschimowitz --

Group Poems
The Cider factory

The smell of the cider
As strong as the taste
The noise of the machines
- Deafening

Deep, rough laughter
The squeezing of the apples
Rambling men's talk
- careful cooperation

The floor is damp
Apple juice everywhere
Sacks being opened
- a trailer full of sacks.
-- Samantha Chinnock --


Apples are like friends
They're always there when you need them
-- Robert Sparks --

The time when orchards at its peak

The sun beats down on my back
Wasps nestle in the side of sweet apples
Yellow, red and green
Falling from the apple tree
While the flies and bees search for sweet nectar
Sitting in the hands of a tree
The branches and palms of the trees
Are full of glistening sweet apples
Sparkling in the sun light
While the grass sways around my feet
The wind calling through the branches
Full of apples. Still peaceful and quiet.
-- Jenna Purves --

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