APPLE PICKING

Oh beautiful! Oh Beautiful! God shed
His grace on me, though I was sulking
Mightily, and full of self-pity. Said
I to self, “Self, stop this milking
Pity from the stones. It’s such a crime
And waste of time to make such moans and groans.”

Oh beautiful! Oh Beautiful! The time
Was gray each day, but I knew in my bones,
Deep down, the sun would free its ray; and skies
Of blue and apples red would waken hope
In me, as on the upland slope there lies
A sung eternity. “Self, remove the rope
You make that binds creation’s song,
For nothing God’s made worldly’s really wrong.”

 

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(P.S:  In case you missed the rhythm of the sonnet, it is basically to the tune of “America, The Beautiful”, and outside of the sonnet-form could be written like this:

Oh beautiful! Oh Beautiful!
God shed His grace on me.
Though I was sulking mightily
And full of self-pity.
Said I to self, “Self stop this milking
Pity from the stones.
It’s such a crime and waste of time
To make such moans and groans.”

Oh beautiful! Oh Beautiful!
The time was gray each day,
But I knew in my bones, deep down,
The sun would free its ray,
And skies of blue and apples red
Would waken hope in me,
As on the upland slopes their lies
A sung eternity.

“Self, remove the rope you make
That binds creation’s song,
For nothing God’s made worldly’s
Ever really wrong.”

After a lot of agonizing I left the word “ever” out of the final line of the sonnet form, as a sonnet’s coda requires an abrupt punch. However the word “ever” does belong in the lyrical version.

Sometimes I have to twist people’s arms a bit, but, when I hide a poem in a sonnet in this manner, it is fun to get people to read it aloud. Some catch the rhythm right away,  while to others it is utterly invisible.