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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410345" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Apple Tree</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410345" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Standing where <br>The grass and the <br>Cement meet<br>In what could be called <br>A walking path<br>Looking towards<br>An old apple orchard<br>Its blossoms tenderly in bloom<br>Filled with pinks, white and red</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410345" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Her gypsy blood stirs<br>She is a vagabond <br>By her own name <br>So much sweetness to be drunk<br>From the small pedals<br>Pink, White and Red, <br>Swaying through the sunny hours<br>Meeting her own needs.<br>By dunking in her little head.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410345" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I remember one spring <br>The cool wind <br>Lifting my hair.<br>I felt a Butterfly <br>On my cheek <br>She left a kiss <br>It tickled with such gentleness<br>How I loved her kiss<br>Every spring <br>I hold that moment <br>Close to me, <br>I love her <br>That gentle little butterfly.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Howard+Johnson">Howard Johnson</a></strong></div>

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