Farm house apple trees,
harvest never picks them clean.
Fruit rots ‘neath baring branches,
bees buzz drunkenly in mashed pulp.
Sickly sweet scent hovers,
annual fall perfume.
Gina is our guest host for today’s Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. He asks us to write about a scent we remember. Apple Me Too Many is drawn from my memories of living in a farm house on 30 acres of land in rural Iowa, from 1974 to 1976. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
lillian the home poet 
This scent fills my morning at the moment… wonderful and welcoming. But we have no apple trees in our garden. It all comes from the neighbors
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That sweet perfume of apples….perfect for the autumn season. Gina is guest hosting by the way, smiles.
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Thanks, Grace…yep…caught that and changed it. Gina: a wonderful prompt!
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Oh, that scent of apples – almost over-powering. The whole house is full of apples at the moment. I look forward to this all year.
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Many of the old Victorian houses we rented as a kid, had cold storage bins, or shelves with screens on them–apples, potatoes and onions were kept there. Later, that part was never included in modern kitchens or back porches; more’s the shame.
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Oh yes, apples! I love the image of the bees buzzing drunkenly and the hovering of the sticky scent, Lill. Truly autumn perfume!
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I wish these computer screens came with a scratch and sniff option because I’d love to smell the scent of apples while reading your poem. Welcome to the fall season, eh? 🙂
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Lovely, we have been having a bumper crop of apples, I have been stewing them and putting them in the freezer. XXXXXXXX
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Nice description of the fall scent as sickly sweet perfume.
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I close my eyes and smell apples. that wonderful fresh lovely scent and the sound of the bees buzzing over them.
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The smell of apple barns is synonymous with autumn to me. Your description captures that essence!
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drunken bees was so funny Lillian! I have just read “secret lives of bees” so bees were were still buzzing in my head! your description took me to a woodsy place with sweet scent of overripe apples, the scent so heavy in the air I could collapse in a safe haven.
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We had apples and pears, and never could keep up with the crop – exactly as you describe.
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Mmm fall perfume! So sad they are left to rot on the ground. I think gleaners should be allowed to come, I made my first apple pie of the season yesterday! Now Autumn is official!
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Oh, yes, an over-abundance of apples some years!! I know the fear of drunken bees 😉 Now the grand daughters help me pick the fallen ones up; we feed them to the cows.
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Apples- yum. I’ve never lived where apples were growing; other fruits yes. How marvelous for you!
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“bees buzz drunkenly in mashed pulp”…great line, evocative poem.
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I love the drunken bees in mashed pulp. I am ready to make the season’s first apple pie!
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The sweet and sour smell of apples really takes me back also!
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i love picking apples, beautiful photos and poem, great pick for smell!
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