[Rob Stuart]

The wrong kind of apple flew sideways,
And splattered all over the wall.
‘That’s not what I wanted,’ said Newton.
‘That’s not what I wanted at all.’

The wrong kind of apple went floating
Above where the physicist sat.
He muttered in further displeasure
‘And nor was I hoping for that.’

The wrong kind of apple shot backwards
In time to a time well before
The tree had been planted. Said Isaac
‘I’m starting to find this a bore.’

The right kind of apple dropped on him
Just as he was giving up hope.
His patience was nearly exhausted,
And also he'd smoked all his dope.