I was hiding in the crooked apple tree,
Scouting for Indians, when a man came;
I thought it was an Indian, for he
Was running like the wind., There was a flame
Of sunlight on his hand as he drew near,
And then I saw a knife gripped in his fist.
He panted like a horse; his eyes were queer,
Wide-open, staring frightfully, and, hist!
His mouth stared open like another eye,
And all his hair was matted down with sweat.
I crouched among the leaves for fear he'd spy
Where I was hiding, so he did not get
His awful eyes on me, but like the wind
He fled as if he heard something behind.
The Apple Tree (the Adventures Of Seumas Beg)
James Stephens
(1)
Poem topics: fear, hair, horse, running, tree, wide, apple, knife, mouth, flame, indian, thought, sunlight, wind, open, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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