BLACKBERRY PICKING

 We went to pick blackberries up in the woods
 With a plastic bowl each and our old welly boots
 But the berries were smaller than in previous years
 And you said, ”We’ll not find the best ones ‘round here”
  
 “There’ll be better brambles on a differ-ent route”
 So we went off in search of superior fruit
 But I picked a few from each bush that we passed
 And before we knew it we’d come to the last
  
 And though mine were small they were juicy and sweet
 I knew that my family were in for a treat
 With black-purple goodness my bowl was filled high
 Soon to be inside a dirty great pie
  
 But your bowl was empty and it made me feel sad
 That baffled look on your face that you had
 So I chopped up some apples and added some spice
 And you cheered up a bit when I gave you a slice