There was this young lady
Whose sweetness and beauty were known
By woman, man, and child
From shore to shore

Her parents were proud
Yet humble they remained
They, wise and so loving
A sweet lady they raised

But she had a small secret
That most could not see
A secret she would share
With only her young apple tree

She longed to find someone
With whom to share all her love
Always anticipating
When the next suitor would come

The apple tree would comfort her
And with his shade he'd protect
Her soft skin and long curls
So the sun they would not burn

He adored her and so loved her
With the deepest of all love
And often wished that he
Could be the suitor she would love

But still content he remained
And so grateful he would feel
For whatever time she'd spend with him
Whatever seconds he could steal

Day after day
He would hope for a glimpse
Of her beautiful smile
Or that with him she would sit

But her visits were few
And she would quickly leave
When she'd here the phone ringing
A new suitor to meet

The tree would moan deeply
But he would never let her see
The sadness deep inside of him
Every time she would leave

But as before, she would return
Broken and blue,
Disappointed again
At another suitor who had proven untrue

He would listen to her sadness
As she cried woefully,
"How many more suitors,
Must my poor heart endure?"

With her he would mourn
But deep down inside
He was grateful to be with her
Even when she would cry

The tree would whisper a cool breeze
And its branch gently outstretch
A sweet apple he would give her
To allay her bitterness

But again she could not see
The love of her tree
'Cause when the phone would ring
She would then quickly flee

There on the floor
The apple he gave
Discarded and uneaten
Like other times before

"Oh, God!" he would cry,
"How much more shall we take?
My love for her kills me,
And in her sadness she'll break."

But the time still passed on
This time her absence was long
And the tree now was aching
"Where had she gone?"

With a suitor he feared
Perhaps, this the one
That would bring her the happiness
For which she so longed

Day after day
His branches outstretched
Hoping to see her
Hoping with him she would sit

But the days slowly passed
And he neither drank nor ate
Her presence was the nourishment
That gave him all his strength

His apples now fell
And his branches were withered
He made one last stretch
And hoped he would see her

There was one last moan
Throughout the town it was heard
As he cried out to her
With the last breath he owned

But on her deaf ears it fell
For she did not hear
The words "How I loved you"
That were so sincere

Now a new sun had risen
And the girl had returned
Again sad and broken
And looking to heal

Found her way to the apple tree
And cried in disbelief
"My poor broken friend"
Your shade I now need

And then deepest heartache
The greatest tears ever wept
Consumed her whole being
A feeling she did not expect

"My poor tree, it is you
Whom I've loved all along.
How could I've not seen it?
Only now that you've gone"

Her sadness was deeper
Than any she'd known
Her parents consoling
But her tears would not slow

Day after day
Her tears they did flow
Not eating or drinking
For his love fed her soul

Now weakened and exhausted
One last prayer she did speak
"Oh, God, why was he not
The suitor for me to keep?"


And she cried herself to sleep
As a great storm began to reap
All the broken trees and bushes
That the land would not keep

Washed clean were all the houses
And the air now crisp and clean
The sunshine bearing down on earth
On this first day of spring

The light of day peered
Into the dark room
Which slowly awakened
A frail, sobbing girl

She caught the scent of apples
And decided to once more
Look upon her broken love
But noticed something more

No longer was there
A broken, withered tree
But a young man sleeping
Where her tree once used to be

She cried, "Oh, God!"
Could this truly be?"
As she ran out of the house
As quickly as she could flee

And where once stood the apple tree
A young man she did see
Standing right in front of her
Both now in disbelief

"Is it true?
Is it you?
My beloved
Apple tree"

But overjoyed
He could not speak
So only gently
Did he outstretch

An apple in hand
To give to her
As the words, "How I do love you",
Reached her ears

From the lips of the boy
Who once was
Her beloved apple tree