My little daughter is a tea-rose, <br />Satin to the touch, <br />Wine to the lips, <br />And a faint, delirious perfume. <br />But my little son <br />Is a June apple, <br />Firm and cool, <br />And scornful of too much sweetness, <br />But full of tang and flavor <br />And better than bread to the hungry. <br />O wild winds, and clumsy, pilfering bees, <br />With the whole world to be wanton in, <br />Will you not spare my little tea-rose? <br />And O ruthless blind creatures, <br />Who lay eggs of evil at the core of life, <br />Pass by my one red apple, <br />That is so firm and sound!<br /><br />Karle Wilson Baker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/apple-and-rose/
