A scent of ripeness from over a wall. <br />And come to leave the routine road <br />And look for what had made me stall, <br />There sure enough was an apple tree <br />That had eased itself of its summer load, <br />And of all but its trivial foliage free, <br />Now breathed as light as a lady's fan. <br />For there had been an apple fall <br />As complete as the apple had given man. <br />The ground was one circle of solid red. <br /> <br />May something go always unharvested! <br />May much stay out of our stated plan, <br />Apples or something forgotten and left, <br />So smelling their sweetness would be no theft.<br /><br />Robert Frost<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unharvested/
