Apple of Her Eye
written by: John Sutherby
As they poured through the grove,
I hid, ducked and dove.
I’m not meant to be picked by just anybody.
Not until I’m my true reddest,
Skin glowing its warm brightest.
Choosing when and who gets to pick me.
I’d prefer some fate,
Not involving a plate,
Peeled for a pie, sauce or some tart.
Joining others plucked before,
Or dropped, bruising my core.
Not yet ready to depart.
Then I spot her smile, canvas n’ brush in hand,
Her warm confidence, strong outstretched hand,
“I’ve found the one I must paint.”
Seeing something in me
Beyond a grandmother’s recipe.
“An abstract of you I must paint.”
Just out of reach,
So I reach out to her hand.
Becoming the luckiest apple,
Born on this grove land.
Framed, looking over others
Forever looking at me.
The apple of her eye,
Forever I will be.
NOTE:
Based on the Prompt – The Last Fruit
- Apple of Her Eye - August 20, 2026
- Still Counting - June 10, 2026
- Sledding My Way - March 20, 2026
