I went to the cobble square market
Fresh vegetable a picking
Even though I have my own garden full
Surely no harm just a looking?
A spry old farmer man I spied
So tan handsome weathered face
Had a wooden cartful of fragrant apples
That he yink-yanked about the place.
I say there Jasper – Old Apple Man
What apples have ya grown?
He winked “I’ve grown some good uns Lass
a young one like you’d never known!”
I am NOT an applestarved child kind Sir!
Name your cultivars to me please
Tell me the kinds you’ve planted now
and I maybe might buy some of these.
“Oh Girly, I am your Apple King!
My orchards run rare and deep
The fruit I grow in ancient green earth
wild mythical lures they keep.”
Bah, old man surely you jest!
I know my eating apples too
Count me how many you grow on your land
And it better be more than a few.
“A FEW?” he snorted. “How about eighty milady?!!”
What? Are you stretching me?
You got eighty var i e ties . . .
in your orchardy land?
Then I want to you to e d u c a t e me!
He twinked in his eye harumped in his throat
“Are you really ready for this . . . . Miss?
I was a dasher of a buck back in my day
I’m 88 now but if I had a chance
To be 87 again, now we’d play.”
pssshaw! Oh play what Grandpa?!?
Tiddlywinks? Stop wiggling those caterpillar eyebrows at me!
Now make with the fruit
Or buddy I’ll scoot and you’ll see only the back side of me.
Go on take your best shot
Tell me your tale!
“Well then lean your jeannies against my wood cart.”
hmm . . I crossed up my arms – narrowed my eyes
Then braced myself for his apple tart start.
“W E L L . . . . . . . now
We’ll begin with a ripe rare one of sweetness ~
Beauty of Bath, I picked it this morn off the tree.
Be a good girl, open your mouth now and take a big bite
Then hush close your eyes so you’ll see.”
I cocked my head like a crackle . . . .
Sure I’ll take a bite
I’ll be Adam this time to yur Eve
I chomped the deep red right, in the blush
And dribbled gold juice on my sleeve.
And suddenly I was in a lovely fragrant orchard alone
not another soul seen around
my full peasant skirt apron gathered of fruit
with a glorious apple abound.
I reached – a plump beauty called out to me
But an arm
circled a cinch round my waist
my chin became cupped
in a manly strong hand
as he kiss fed me an apple to taste.
He pulled me off balance
encircled excited me
mauvered and caught me midfall
and fell laughing with strange lover twined around me
he was muscular, hard he was tall.
As he plied me with apples I thought of roast pig
Poor meaty piggy. . . no will to resist
he pulled my hand away from my face
controlled me by binding my wrist.
And I ate as though compelled by his will
He steered me like he actually owned me
Then he licked down the juices oft my chin and my lips
Placed me up on my knees as he honed me.
He held my gaze with kind love brimmed eyes
I don’t where I’d seen him before
But so surely those lips
suckled gentle my lips
that he parted them ever some more.
Tingly apple breathlessness
Oh He shut me up good
invaded my heart, tongue bathed and fed me
And if a bee had not landed square on my knee
The chances were good he’d a bed me.
Stung! Stung! eyes popped open wide
I blinked ow hard twice
To see old apple man agrinning and waving
“Seems you might want to buy you a peck of these apples
And take some home now for the saving.
Steady then – step lively, ach you’re a little wobbly there.!”
I . . I guess I’ll buy a peck
mumbled out of my lips
still buzzing from ambushed apple kissing
figured I better eat these apples at home
and sort out what I sorely was missing.
But they were just apples.
I ate them all week.
I closed my eyes tight and I waited
But the stirring that stirred apple butter in me
Was a longing that wouldn’t be sated.
“Oh yur back again” he chortled.
“What’s your pleasure this time?
Eating, cooking or baking?”
I mused, it seems my head’s full of applesauce now
So a cooking apple I’ll be taking.
“Ah well! what shall it be then?
Not a Greensleeves, Pippen or Braeburn?
my apple dream for you
I say apple number two
I call this one . . . . a King David!”
“Yes an heirloom for you
Take a scent of a sniff of a wiff now”
As I sighed in a breath
My sweet brain went deaf
And back I was in the orchard somehow.
As I sniff loved the air
I felt on my hair
large hands smoothing my locks off my temple
and placed on my crown
a ring of plaited leaf down
of woven white apple blossoms.
In my creamy white gown
Smooth fitted silk round
he braided the lengths of my tresses.
Hands brushed by my breast
nipplebuds are the test
rose peaks in pink center confesses.
I’ve crowned you my Queen
preside here with me
our orchards will burst gayly with love
And the fine apples we grow are the
the fruit that will show
our favor from our Maker above.
Will you stay . . can I keep you . . will you let me place
my seal – my mark on you? Do you want me? Do you love me?
Oh say you adore me!
I need you to whisper you do
say that you must have me too!
“Do you want me . . I say . . do you want these in yur car?
HelloMiss? . . . Do you want these cars in your apples then?”
I blinked and squinted at the old man
he looked a little . . funny
I wiped my lip.
I . . so . . so I’m buying more apples am I?
How . . . how old did you say you are?
67? I thought you was 88?
57? . . . .
I musta hear wrong . . . .
I . .
. . . . .
I’m lost in an apple dream world
applesauce chunky for brains
my apples are breasts now
with crabapple nipples
golden juice runs down my legs
in rivers of ripples
down two apple globe cheeks
where my ass I think used to be
oh I want to be eaten
plucked like succulent fruit shorn from an apple tree.
I think that old man
put a dream spell on me
or a hex ore a jinx
He put something in those apples
Cuz something somehow stinks
Oh I’m outta my league here I’m done for man
I’m baking apple bread, apple fritters they fry
in my iron skillet pan
Apple betty is brown, apple donuts abound
And am stuffed with apples like a roasted pig round
God help me
I fear I may die an apple-ly death.
No more apples! that’s IT!
ENOUGH with the apples!
cold turkey it is!
. . . .
but hmmmm . . . .
I . . . .
“Oh still loving the apples are you then?
Back for more?
You thinking about baking a pie??”
help I’m thinking about baking a pie!
“Well here’s one for you it’s called a Peach.
and it’s a looker like you for the eye.”
No NO peaches!! I only eat apples now.
“No it’s an apple called a Peach, not native to here.
Grown in a land that’s green
and I’ve only’d one left
you better eat it up
snap it up while it’s still can be seen.
No I’m done old man!
no more apples.
with all my strength
unappled I hobbled away
my husband has left me
I’ve lost my job
I can’t live in a dream everyday.
I might just be crazy
I may start my own orchard
or live in a coconut tree
oh I used to be somebody, someobody else
oh Lordy what’s happened to me?
I remember the fruit of good and evil
that grew on that paradise tree.
sigh . . . . . .
well . . .
whew. okay then.
(insert thumb twiddlings here)
ahhhh shit . . . . . .
ahh how . . .
how much for the apples then?
“Oh my Joy my Appleheart ~ I knew you’d come back to me!!”
yvb Fall 2011
I went to a framer’s market and met a darling old farmer. He bragged about his 80 varieties of apples and shared some free apples and some apple growing talk. He was so dear and a bit of a rascal. As I drove away munching on my apple . . . an apple tale began to form. . . . hmmm?
you love apples
I love apples
let’s get together yeah yeah yeah
heading to the orchard now. :))
very long, really a short story.