Rapunzel's Mother

Someone should sing
Of my apple tree
though it be but a dwarf
and was planted this year

Yet it has its apples
All six of them
Red and October scented
Promising crisp-sweet

I used to laugh at
tales of Rapunzel's mother
craving something fresh
from the witch's garden

But morning each day
I cup those apples
lifting the stems
to see if they're ready

I was woken by this poem at about 4 am. Clearly, I am losing my mind. Having said that, they really are good looking apples.