Apple Tree Memories

Picked apples fill up a bucket
the warm sun burns the day away

the dress you wore last year
and the year before last;
still, it remains your favourite

Unpicked apples line the arbour
you think back to your kids
playing on a sunny day like today

yet now they are older
such joys that they held dear
now only for the fools

Picked apples sit abandoned
barefoot and twirling
immersed in the glory days

Twirling a wish for another love
singing to the parrots
A wombat looks ready for sleep

The moment passes
you pick up the bucket
back to your empty kitchen

Perhaps you’ll make an apple pie
the eldest son loves them
maybe he will come to visit soon

Modern Colours

Flashes of a ballroom
   vibrant 1950s green,
black and white tiles
    blood red river running
between the tiles

Never to return, or so
    it seemed once
Stepping over the threshold
    into childhood screams

A solitary figure with
     no one to greet her
The renovations were simple,
     that green colour she loved

Turning away from this
     place of painful memories
Leaving behind the good and 
    the bad for modern colours