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Round Sundre

The Ice Cream Soda Jerk

The Milk Cow Blues

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Dear Old Barkerville



Pink Canoe

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The Ole John Deere

On the Road - Look out - Logging Truck

The Lone Butte Song

This Morning There Was Rain

Go For The Gold

The Great Cariboo Ride (Theme Song)

Christmas With My Old Ma

My Plants Are Writing Poetry

The Barbwire Brand

Tribute to Phillip Hughes Australian Cricket Player

Married With Cows

YOU

Love's Benediction

The Fall

The Apple Core

A Flower Seed Revealing Life That Dwells Within

Children Want Peace On Earth

Sing

Forever You

Touching Crystal

Silver Spring

Winter's Silver Banns

The Sacred Root

Drilling In The Calving Bed

More Poetry >>


 



“Mercy sakes!” said the spider



to the apple core.



“How am I to carry you



to my spider door?”



 



Then from the other side



a little ant replied:



“If spider gave the core a push



it would fall on its side.”



 



So spider with his eight long legs



kept pushing the apple core;



While the ant scurried about



shouting - “More!  More!”



 



Then tipping, then tottering,



then standing still once more



the apple core seemed to say:



“Such creatures are a bore!”



 



“Goodness!” said the spider



“That apple core’s a loss.”



As he sat cleaning his eight long legs



sticky with apple sauce.



 



     “No loss my friend,”



     said the little ant.



     “Tip it, roll it on its side,



     up to the yonder hill and



     then we will watch it slide.”



 



     “Your spider door, between two rocks,



     I’ve seen beneath the hill.



     We will aim it straight;



     won’t lose a splinter.



     You will have apple sauce



     for winter!”



 



“But who will tip the apple core?



Who will roll it up the hill?



Who will aim it at my spider door?



Tell me ant, who will?”



 



The breeze stirred the leaves above



the shaggy apple core.



The spider and the ant then heard:



“Such creatures are a bore!”



 



The ant raised his antennas



and tickled the fall air.



Soon, ten thousand little ants



were standing right there.



 



The spider whispered, “Goodness,”



and then a big, “WOW!”



The apple core was on its side,



the ants were shouting, “NOW!”



 



Now ten thousand little ants



crawled under the apple core;



sure of hearing a wheezy voice say:



“Such creatures...are a bore!”



 



Then off the core travelled



on a sea of little specks;



The spider marching up the hill



between the grassy deck.



 



Now standing on the hilltop,



turning a little left;



one step back, a smidgen right -



then with a mighty heft...



 



Down, down the apple core



rolling down the green;



stopped inside the spider’s door,



never once said....



            “What a bore!”



 



The ants went back to the ant hill.



The little ant stayed behind.



The spider kissed the little ant,



and said:  “You have been kind.”



 



So, happy was the spider



setting his winter moss;



that he would sleep well,



the winter through,



on a bowl of apple sauce.



 



"The Apple Core" (c) Katie Kidwell, 1972  from the book Elephant Stew, Poems & Songs for Children



 



 







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