I’ve come to give you fruit from out my orchard, <br />Of wide report. <br />I have trees there that bear me many apples. <br />Of every sort: <br /> <br />Clear, streaked; red and russet; green and golden; <br />Sour and sweet. <br />This apple’s from a tree yet unbeholden, <br />Where two kinds meet, - <br /> <br />So that this side is red without a dapple, <br />And this side’s hue <br />Is clear and snowy. It’s a lovely apple. <br />It is for you. <br /> <br />Within are five black pips as big as peas, <br />As you will find, <br />Potent to breed you five great apple trees <br />Of varying kind: <br /> <br />To breed you wood for fire, leaves for shade, <br />Apples for sauce. <br />Oh, this is a good apple for a maid, <br />It is a cross, <br /> <br />Fine on the finer, so the flesh is tight, <br />And grained like silk. <br />Sweet Burning gave the red side, and the white <br />Is Meadow Milk. <br /> <br />Eat it, and you will taste more than the fruit: <br />The blossom, too, <br />The sun, the air, the darkness at the root, <br />The rain, the dew, <br /> <br />The earth we came to, and the time we flee, <br />The fire and the breast. <br />I claim the white part, maiden, that’s for me. <br />You take the rest.<br /><br />Louise Bogan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-crossed-apple/
