A Honey-crisp Apple Sonnet


Your shiny tight skin bursts

in hues of red to green,

my watering mouth hurts

as I’m washing you clean.


You loose memories free

from a distant childhood,

I think of Grandma’s tree,

climbing up the hard wood.


Crunching bites tangy sweet

just a little too tart

Green apples couldn’t be beat

except by this upstart.


Genetically made,

‘tis a crisp sweet upgrade.

Published by Dawn M. Paul

I am an artist and writer at DMPaul.com. Come take a mental rest with me.

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