The Life Of The Apple Seed

This is a story for all to read,

A story of an apple seed.

Small and round,

The little seed went in the ground.

What came up,

Could fit in a cup!

That little green thing

Began to start growing,

Up and up and up it grew

Until it was much taller than you.

That little seed that grew so tall

Is now a tree to the joy of all.

And then this tree gave little flowers,

Little flowers that had special powers.

Then those flowers turned into something different,

Something round and brilliant!

Apples! Still green and small,

Looking like a little green ball.

And as those apples grew bigger in size

It kept getting better in my eyes.

And when it was the size of a baseball

Red was becoming the little green ball.

From green to orangey, from orangey to red,

that's how it is, that's what I've read.

And when it's red- "It's ready to pick!!"

Sometimes to get them you have to stand on a brick.

Once you have the apple is in your hand

You have to wash it, that's mom's command.

But after that you take a bite and you better hope there's not a bug,

After that you put the seed into the hole you recently dug.

And that restarts the need

To again read the story of the Apple Seed.

...On This Summers Day

Falling on this summers day,

Falling in its own wet way.

When the rain meets with the ground it creates its own explosion,

Causing that place to be all wet, that is my notion.

Watching the rain now I see, everything is damp,

Its clouds make my home so dark I have to use my lamp.

The water on the leaves make them shine in the light,

The raining rain may even continue raining till the night, it might.

Now I look at the time, four minutes to eleven,

Now it has been raining all morning from the rain in the heaven.

Now I watch the rain on this quiet summers day,

Now I watch the rain falling in its own wet way.

Avé

SEASONS and there MEANINGS

JANUARY is the beginning of the year,

FEBRUARY is the month of love.

MARCH is the is when spring is near,

APRIL is the month of rain, Kind of.

MAY is the month of beauty and sunshine,

JUNE is the time to plant the garden of mine.

JULY is the month for swimsuits and the dazzling works of fire,

AUGUST could be more a little bit more wilder.

SEPTEMBER is my special month and also when fall begins to travel in,

OCTOBER, fall is settling in and the cold begins to win.

NOVEMBER, give thanks for Thanksgiving has arrived,

DECEMBER, Christmas! Oh those blessed children! And into there presents they dived.

Why Is It Hard To Make A Good Poem?

Why is it hard to make a good poem

When ideas for a poem are all around you?

Why is it hard to make a good poem

When the ideas are old and new?

Why is it hard to make a good poem

When you haven't written any in many a year?

Why is it hard to make a good poem

When the last time you wrote one is so near?

Poems are so hard to make sometimes,

It's kind of hard to think of good rhymes.

A poem could be about a chair or a bush, a rock or a house,

How about a log or a leaf, a chicken or a mouse.

Why is it hard it make good poem

When a notebook is right beside you?

Why is hard to right a good poem

When it is so easy for a baby to coo?

Why is hard to write a good poem

When you've written so many in you past?

Why is it hard to write good poem

That you fear this one may be your last?

Why is it hard to write good poem

When Ideas for a poem are all around you?

Why is it hard to hard to write a good poem

When the ideas are old and new?