The Poetry Corner

The Apple Tree (The Adventures Of Seumas Beg)

By James Stephens

I was hiding in the crooked apple tree, Scouting for Indians, when a man came; I thought it was an Indian, for he Was running like the wind., There was a flame Of sunlight on his hand as he drew near, And then I saw a knife gripped in his fist. He panted like a horse; his eyes were queer, Wide-open, staring frightfully, and, hist! His mouth stared open like another eye, And all his hair was matted down with sweat. I crouched among the leaves for fear he'd spy Where I was hiding, so he did not get His awful eyes on me, but like the wind He fled as if he heard something behind.