Becky's Poetry Blog

 My Apple Tree is for picking you see…. My apples makes apple juice… My apples are sweet… My apples are a treat… My apples are not to be beat…. My apples are the best in town…. My apples are best all around.

 My thorn in my head is killing me; Yes I have a thorn inside my head... And It's Killing me... It cuts like a knife: And it sends sharp pains sometimes: And it hurts- There is a thorn in my head...

 To my lover, I must not forget my lover; For the love of my lover.. For here to eternity..

Her desire for him was strong;  Her hands trembling... Firm,  intense eye contact...  Her lowering one voice while speaking: She couldn't get enough of him.