Stories from Miranda Town
Ten Miles The Apple Tree
13 Aug 2005
Somewhere in the breezy haze
Of green hills under a white sky
A tree called ‘Ten Miles’ gazed
Next to the pond of the chicken fly.
Old Ten Miles was a haven
For those weary and overdue
Sparrow, crow and raven
Ate there the chicken fly stew.
Lovers would come to grapple
And travellers from the branches take
Ripe, sweet purple apples
And eat them there for eating’s sake.
Days would turn to night
And Ten miles leaves would turn
And those who’d taken flight
Would gather fruit to burn.
Amongst the throng of rovers,
Who came watch this Scene
Came a young man Farley Grover
10 miles out of Wellingreen.
“What’s this?” said Farley to a maid
“What does all this madness mean?”
She replied “Friend don’t be afraid
That remains to be seen.”
The apples burned in a heap
And Ten Miles leaves began to glow
The aroma began to seep
Into the heads of those below.
Everyone’s tired eyes glazed
As Visions began to appear
The maid danced unfazed
And she drew young Farley near.
In the morning Farley rose
He’d had the time of his life
The maid lay too with no clothes
But what would he tell his wife?
(Taken form Aisling)