Every once in a while I try to surprise my wife with a gift. She collects hand-painted Limoges boxes, so I ordered one that looks like a sliced apple and hid it in her fruit bowl. At one time, she would make me an egg every morning before she went to work. Once she retired, the daily routine changed to a sliced apple for lunch. My tradition has always been to tuck a poem inside the hinged box:


You’re the apple.
Of my eye.
‘Cause I Love You,
Sweetie pie.

“I Love You,”
To the core.
You say back,
“Love you, more.”

You’re my slice,
So much Ap-peel.
Awesome Sauce,
The Real Deal.

As your daddy said,
“You didn’t fall far.”
He made you,
Who you now are.

It stems from love,
And blossoms pink.
Oranges can’t compare,
Most people think.

The first bite happened,
In The Garden of Eden.
The Forbidden Fruit,
Was it worth eatin’?

Sleeping Beauty,
Ate a bad one.
If a witch offers,
It’s best to run.

An Apple a day,
Keeps Microsoft away.
If Stephen Jobs,
Has his way.

What is that,
On your head?
William Tell,
Might have said?

“Something rotten,
Has fallen on me.”
How Isaac Newton,
Found gravity.

A Golden Apple,
For the teacher.
Was that wormhole,
Made by a creature?

Why does Bob,
Have to work for his?
If you don’t like cider,
Try Apple Fizz.

If you don’t
At first succeed.
Johnny on the spot,
Was Appleseed.

Dip mine in caramel,
Put it on a stick.
Is Green Apple candy,
Worth a lick?

“How do you like em?”
The expression teases.
A shiny red apple,
Always pleases.

Copyright 2020 johnstonwrites.com