The Apple

The Apple

In the long grass you could still see if you looked carefully

The red skin and the round shape that had fallen from the tree

She had picked most of the fruit in the late summer

When the warmth had encouraged early ripening

But this apple had been missed and fallen to the ground

There were marks where a blackbird had pecked

Seeking nourishment as winter fingers came

To envelop the garden each morning in frosted mist

The blackbird had pecked away but not returned

Upon further examination you would have seen more

The teeth marks of some rodent that had visited

The winter was harsh yet the creature had not returned

She had seen the hedgehog one morning

When the sun had broken through for a few hours

Wandering past the plum tree near the fence

Then snuffling beneath the discarded leaves of a vine

But she had not seen the visit to the apple

So she was not aware the creature never returned

The crop had been heavy and she was pleased

Giving her thanks to a deity in which she believed

She had used her stepladder to reach the highest branch

Five full baskets were a reason for some celebration

Some she had given to neighbours and friends

Others were used for apple tart to take to church

Then she had made lots of jam and apple jelly

That would help see her through the winter

She was proud of her achievements that year

She loved to hang bird feeders in her trees

Full of corn and peanuts for feathered friends

But as her health faltered over the months

She did not notice there were fewer birds

Nor was she able to see the apple on the ground

Now she spent her time inside her home

Starting to sense that she was all alone

Eating her apple jam seemed to make her worse

She wondered if she were the victim of a curse

They found her in early Spring before the thaw

Almost a skeleton she was limp and thin

An opened jar of apple jam by her bedside

She was prepared to lie in her final resting place

At the service church pews were nearly empty

The coffin taken to lie beneath her favourite tree

A few handfuls of earth tossed into the grave

Only then did a pall bearer notice and remark

Upon the red apple lying in the grass

Copyright: David Hopcroft December 2024

(To be continued)

On the edge: Are you insane?

On the edge: Are you insane

This land is ours they cried

As they came with fire in the night

To burn the village to the ground

It’s ours the fleeing families said

Leaving the elderly

Already shot dead

By snipers as an army watched

Then reported they could see nothing amiss

Get off our land they cried

Sending their rockets in the air

Aimed at the homes

Of those they deemed responsible

For the bombing of their children

As if the killing of others

Would bring back their own

And all would then be well

Aim for the hospitals came the cry

Aim for the schools

Aim for the mosques

Aim for the churches

Destroy their homes

Burn them to the ground

‘Love Thy Neighbour?’

‘Hell no. Let them die’

Cheering from the sidelines

Were those who supplied the bombs

Why can’t you just live side by side

I asked as I tried to intervene

But my efforts were in vain

Back came the shrieking from one and all

“Side by side” they screamed

“Are you insane?”

Copyright: David Hopcroft October 2024

If we are frightened to protest then what hope is there for humanity?

Moonlight Visits

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We’re the daughters of Diana looking for our stag
Dancing in the moonbeams on Summer’s brightest night
Bowstrings taut and arrows sharp, in greenery we’re clad
Seek the mystery of the grove, you shall find our light

We are the sirens of the stars, beating on the drum
Watch our bodies swaying, sweat glistens from our skin
Our lunar love waxing high for Horned Ones to come
Welcome to the huntress’ world, why not step right in ?

Beneath moonlight, whilst in your bed, sleeping with your dream
As Endymion’s love was stole, I took your kiss
Lay with you on satin sheets to be your midnight queen
With my parted lips I claimed your youth leaving bliss

We’re silent sirens seeking sensual satisfaction
Apollo’s shafts shape shift within our hands tonight
Massaged quivering arrows firm to our attraction
Seven daughters of Niobe envy our delight

With amorous advances we’ll lead you to our shrines
Hidden deep within our caves our great riches find
The burning fires deep within where moonlight never shines
Orion’s borrowed light ne’er quenched what you may bind

Wake not from nocturnal dreams whilst we are still disrobed
Thrill within might turn to fear waking as a stag
To the daughters of Diana you have been betrothed
Sleep on, the sun will rise, the stem begin to sag

Wake to the drop that glistens upon the shining orb
Drawn forth from visitation by the moon in flight
Hunted Actaeon’s fate avoid, you shall keep your sword
Daughters of Diana shall pleasure bring each night.

Copyright: David Hopcroft March 2001