Poem_Anonymous2

Poem_Anonymous2

“Old Johnny Appleseed

Grandpa stopped, and from the grass at our feet,
Picked up an apple, large, juicy, and sweet;
Then took out his jackknife, and, cutting a slice,
Said, as we ate it, “”Isn’t it nice
To have such apples to eat and enjoy?
Well, there weren’t very many when I was a boy,
For the country was new – e’en food was scant;
We had hardly enough to keep us from want,
And this good man, as he rode around,
Oft eating and sleeping upon the ground,
Always carried and planted appleseeds –
Not for himself, but for others’ needs.
The appleseeds grew, and we, today,
Eat of the fruit planted by the way.
While Johnny – bless him -is under the sod –
His body is – ah! he is with God;
For, child, though it seemed a trifling deed,
For a man just to plant an appleseed,
The apple tree’s shade, the flowers, the fruit,
Have proved a blessing to man and to brute.
Look at the orchards throughout the land,
All of them planted by old Johnny’s hand.
He will forever remembered be;
I would wish to have all so think of me.

By an unknown author”