Bobbing for Apples by Ann Schneider

There is one pleasure
I like to recall . . .
Bobbing for apples,
How that amused one and all!
We were bound and determined
Into the apples to bite,
As they kept floating around 
To everyone's delight.


In a huge wooden bucket
The apples would bob
As we filled it with water
Clear up to the top;
And many a time 
A dousing we'd get,
While some happy prankster
Would shout "Let's get wet!"
And push our eager faces 
Deep down in the tub,
We'd come up gasping,
Not expecting that dub!


On through the years
This sport can be seen,
On the festive occasion 
Of each Halloween.
A faint wisp of smile
Comes o'er my face,
As I muse for a moment
How I tried to embrace
A floating red apple
Between my set teeth,
But somehow or other 
I never accomplished that feat.