I.
Robed
in soft blush
the peaches
for the wedding
are ripe
and I will
take them
when I leave
for the seaside
perfumed
with tender flesh
and a heart
of stone.
II.
Often painted
with a stem
and leaf
the tongue
by which
we speak
our hearts
these fruits
shared the sun
equally so
must not be
kindred
a tree
produces
unevenly
at best.
III.
With
clingstones
some cultivars
are made
to be difficult
and it’s no
secret that
work
can be
pleasure
but pleasure
cannot be
worked at.
IV.
Perseverance
in time
the skin
peels clean
with just
a thumb
the stone
falls free
the only
labor here
is patience
the fruits
multiple
a peach
perfected
unequivocally
consummate
a new seed
now bared
the promise
inherent.
Enjoyable read, my favourite wording is “but pleasure cannot be worked at”
C.C.
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Thanks! Was pretty pleased with that myself 🙂
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I like I. It invites speculation on the metaphorical intent and context.
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Thank you!
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wow. One of my favorites, Also qualifies for Favorite Fruit Poem About a Fruit That Is Not My Favorite But Makes Me Want to Check it Out Again, type of award.
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Thanks, and ha! That is quite an accolade there
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A lovely and tender poem.
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Thank you very much!
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A lovely read!!
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Thanks!!
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beautiful, which I have come to expect from your poetry. The language and the flow of the metaphor throughout the poem and its poignancy are stunning.
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I have been picking Victoria plums in my garden for the last couple of weeks and the softness of the flesh, warmth to the touch and tender delicacy of the skin when ripe really made sense of your words.
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