It seemed rare to find in this particular place,
apples of your standing and grace.
And in my joy of such a find,
I make a mistake. A totally understandable mistake.
Unforeseen, and minor to some....
To me, it was unfortunate.
Well that is to say my hands were filled with bags of peaches and nectarines.
So when I added four or five huge apples to the bag.
I dropped it.
And in your sickly fall I heard the imminent smushing.
Well... I heard the smushing.
But I bought you anyway,
because who leaves a bag of smushed apples for the grocery to deal with?
So now, eating you, crispy and fresh,
is a little bit like eating a puzzle.
As I stuff you into muzzle,
I turn and look, feel, poke, prod, only to discover,
that like us all,
your faults make your sweet bits... that much better.