My little daughter is a tea-rose,
Satin to the touch,
Wine to the lips,
And a faint, delirious perfume.
But my little son
Is a June apple,
Firm and cool,
And scornful of too much sweetness,
But full of tang and flavor
And better than bread to the hungry.
O wild winds, and clumsy, pilfering bees,
With the whole world to be wanton in,
Will you not spare my little tea-rose?
And O ruthless blind creatures,
Who lay eggs of evil at the core of life,
Pass by my one red apple,
That is so firm and sound!
Apple And Rose
Karle Wilson Baker
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Poem topics: daughter, evil, june, life, red, son, world, wild, touch, bread, blind, cool, hungry, sound, rose, I love you, I miss you, apple, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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