Golden Apples

This poem is off of the top of my head. I was reading some old entries in a journal and recalled a few friends that had used the "Golden Apple" illustration years ago.

The friends had said, there'll be someone that sees the value of climbing up the tree, through the thorns (basically the work to get there), to reach that apple. They're also likely to appreciate it much more than someone that is looking for the most convenient apple to pick. They related the tree climbing and thorns or tight branches to making it past the protective barrier of your friends. I think it's good to have the kind of friends that are concerned with your well being or safety. 

I appreciated this illustration, and thought of those "golden apples" hanging up at the top of the tree. Sometimes it's as that song stating there are moments they are lonely, but that there is a full reward and refuge with it. But keep hanging in there, it's worth the wait. If we stay busy with the work that needs to be done, the right time will come. If that person doesn't come along as soon as we were hoping or at all for that matter, well, it's like someone once said, "It's better to be single and wish you were married, than to be married and wish you were single".
Please note: This poem is not written to imply that relationships are one way streets, even for the "golden apples". It is implied that the apples are golden because their beauty (clothed in qualities that make them beautiful) so they would already have the kind of mindset helpful in a successful relationship. If that makes any sense. 

The Golden Apple

A golden apple

At the top of a great tree

Hanging high

Waiting patiently

For someday to come

The someday

A brave traveler

Looks high up and sees

Something worth the climb

Something glistening

If that day comes

He climbs despite challenges

Weaves his way

Through tightly weaved branches

He reaches the top of the tree

If he works so hard

To reach me

Won't he hold me securely

So I don't fall

While making his descent?

Once he's back

On the ground

Won't he keep me close to him

What he's found?

So he won't lose me

But that day

If it doesn't come

I'll be swinging

Happy in the sun

Growing in safety

Better to be

High up
Hanging in the sun

Than on the ground

Only to find you're stuck

In the mud
Wishing for what you once had