Ode To Honeydew

Honeydew melon is decidedly feminine-- Venus, the moon, a ripe pregnant belly at peace on my kitchen counter emitting the distant scent of summer rain Even the sound of her name brings to mind delicate Shakespearean lady-creatures: lady-sprite Honeydew flitting about in forests adorned with soft petal pink, sweet viridians On my wooden cutting board, I halve my luscious green girl, open wide that simple kissymouth. Her sugared fruitmeat sends waves of ambrosial love, playfulness even, to my nostrils We kiss; and oh I'm dizzy with love for the sweetness of Circe's seafoam heart-of-mermaid fruit