Apples are ripe everywhere
Come September again
Take me there
so that I learn to care
and share, but the right color
and odor to breathe in
and say Grace
that I may be pure like the fruit
sweet like its taste
and happy like its hue red and cream;
I may pluck the due
and look up to the new
and then sit under the shade
and watch over the glade
as I fulfill my obligation
to myself and to my nation
That I must be True;
as my elders bade
me to be
I will be for I know
The apple tree and The Almighty
are looking down on me.
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