A tantalising hint of apple
Scented the afternoon air
Stopped me in my tracks
Took me right back there
To the cider apple trees
Standing in orderly rows
Laden down with fruit
Standing on tiptoes
The girl that I was then
Stretched enough to fill
Basket after basket
To send to the cider mill

 

If the serpent’s offering
In Eden, as the story tells
Had been a cider apple
Then there would be no hell
Tempting they are not
Until they have fermented
But then, oh do take care
When with scrumpy you are tempted