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Best Fruit Poems

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New Fruit Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Fruit poems are below this new poems list.

stranger fruit to come by lowe, millard
Stolen Fruit by Andersen, James
All Pure, Truth, Fruit and Water by McConnell, Gordon
The Fruit and Flowers Cinquain by Seal, Alexander
FRESH FRUIT by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
FRUIT AND TREES by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Kindness Is Fruit One May Easily Give by Lindley, Robert
The Cottage Of The Fruit by Borgo, Louis
Loving the Fruit Salad by Makama, Funom
Fresh Fruit by Faries, Marissa

View all new Fruit Poems

The Best Fruit Poems

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Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden fruit is sweetest, or that’s what they all say
So I thought I’d give it a try and went for some today
I didn’t know just what to choose something firm and hard or what
So I thought I’d take a sample of everything they’d got.

There was some really hard ones, some were ripe and very sweet
But I chose one in the middle and it looked good enough to eat
I caressed it very gently and waited for it to please
I nearly didn’t go through with it, I was really gonna tease.

My taste buds are not set for sweet they prefer something more savoury
But no I stuck to my guns but I want no awards for bravery
I took one that looked just right, its rich colour tempted me to bite
But have you ever bitten a persimmon, that isn’t really ripe?

It sucks the moisture out of your mouth and covers you teeth in wool
Believe me you just try it; I am not giving you any bull.
Now for those that thought the fruit, would be some other man
Maybe that’s on my ‘to do’ list, before I kick the can……….LOL

Shame on you all, for all your naughty thoughts
Especially for those of you, that can’t keep it in their shorts
To all those that do struggle, to keep the forbidden fruit at bay
Just remember the persimmon and you will never rue the day.
© ~GG~ 4/12/2012

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

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How to Haiku

I tried to find a consolation
                to my frustration

saying to myself that it's not a question of whether it's right or wrong, maybe it's just different. But this constant-reiteration is like a surgical interruption of the nerve tracts of my shrinking brain; once again I make a prefrontal leucotomy to myself  just to avoid the cognizance of my reprehensible ignorance or my negligence

It's neither traditional or contemporary 
nor proper or improper
it's just the prosaic practicality
of a pro-preposterous absurdity

But who am I trying to fool using pretentious and alliterated words? 
How difficult is it to accept that I can't write a haiku?

I know it's unfair to quote out of context but when the master Issa said 
"[...] try to forget all of the rules," he was wrong
I tried it before and I could only get unrhymed footles

The king of fruit, nah!
No metaphors until I could understand what "absolute or deep metaphor" means
To be or not to be a watermelon
No personification allowed
Watermelons rhymes with fellons, nah! 
Those Watermelons...nah! No Caps 
Oops! The kigo! The season word! 
Easy: watermelons are the most popular summertime fruit!
The Kireji, my "cutting word" is typical of an IQ above 140: a knife!
My yuxtaposition: another geniality! 
The watermelons are...are you ready?
The watermelons are yuxtaposed in a "pile" 
side by side one upon the other, showing their differences
5,7,5: 17 syllables! 3 unrhymed lines without a title! I did it! With my own hands!
What a joy!

those watermelons cost ten cents more than a knife the fruit prices rise
I captured the precise moment in which "I" realized that the watermelons cost 10 cents more than a knife! Aha! An instance of apprehending the true nature of fruit prices to raise awareness and a recognition of its essence, which, in this case, is the watermelon scent. Also, as the way the economy is going, everybody can relate to it: a universal haiku! Original focus/experience/clear images/perfect! If somebody has the audacity to haikuticize ME, I can still play the card up in my sleeve:Creativity! Creativity in arts: my undeniable power of unrestricted use to determine...whatever! to transcend traditional ideas, rules, concepts, and whatever! to create new forms: an 8-lines-Nonet, an unrhymed footle, a 17 syllables-Sonnet (Rubenserian), or whatever! A Whaikutever! I think I've created a new form... I(Me)am so talented!

Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2012

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Out of the Sun

             in the sun 
              to long
 The skin became the bark of a tree
 the soul turning to brittle scars
 for uncaring worlds to see.
             my face
            is a pile of 
           old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones 
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored  smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
              in the sun
               to long
the mind has smoothed over 
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me

Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday 
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place 
where watercolors swirled all day, 
the heart worms kept at bay.

I'll stay hidden within the weeds, 
till the jewels of memories soothe 
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
       ...stayed in the sun 
              to long

Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2013

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Paradise Lost

Before the days when man first sinned
Angels traveled upon the wind
Everything magic shone in the night
Fairies fluttered, wings shining bright

Eve was perfect with long flowing hair
Sensuous body, delightfuly bare
Adam's body strong, he was a sight
They played by day and made love at night

Everything perfect, living in the trees
Yet trouble called upon a gentle breeze
The serpent said taste, this fruit so grand
Eve so entranced, she ate from his hand

She saved fruit for Adam, he took a bite
The garden went dark, no more magic light

A sonnet in The Wind Contest.
Written September 9th, 2013
Sponsored by: Poetess Darkly

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013

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luscious fruit of the tropics sphere-shaped, tapered, oval-faced beneath the sun dripping yellow; tangy as the taste of a kiss braised by mouths that crave for its moist sweet marrow... peeled from its curved bodice; sucked juice trickles from the canvas of skin lingering from the very stem that dangles and anchors the nape for a voluptuous season of wild forest heat: sliced, striped , tasted by love's scent—the pulp bits ooze—like varnished ochre that unravels the golden blooms beside it ,filling hungry vessels of tongues: the melting ankle of husk peels slowly as wedges ripen to expose the bulbous tunnels of a seed in a burst of aurora... a mango like this lives inside our own season, succulent as earth's cream relishing every drool of caressed, passionate noon in flushed amber sensation. Colourful Verse: Charlotte Puddifoot 4/ 14/2014

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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Fruits Colours

An apple is Red,
I like eating bread,
Banana is yellow,
I am jolly fellow,
Pear is green,
I am neat and clean,
Coconut is brown,
I am little clown,
All fruits are nice,
They make us healthy and wise!!

Copyright © Neha batra | Year Posted 2016

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grapes for the best wine
fresh from the richest vineyard
blessed on the altar

grapes for the best wine
fresh from the richest vineyard
connoisseur’s best choice

grapes for the best wine
fresh from the richest vineyard
difficult to spurn

grapes for the best wine
fresh from the richest vineyard
highlights on feast time

May 17,2013

Note: Originally, I wrote four haiku; but I entered only three in the contest. 

Prize: A book of poem by poet Alfred Vassallo entitled, In Search of Crazed Love

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2013

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Leaves of Trees

O dried up leaf lying there on the ground Fallen from the top of a sturdy tree Where you viewed everything that was around While you bathed in the sunshine's glory You manufactured food from the sunlight And together with the help of the roots Faithfully nourished your parent just right Creating a sturdy tree bearing fruits In spring and summer you wore brilliant green And supplied shade to others from the sun In autumn you became more colourful and before winter dropped off one by one Even now as you lay there on the dirt Nature must move on in its cyclic line You shall soon become a part of the earth And become food for others of your kind
iambic pentameter

Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2014

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Pineapple Pizza - The American Diamante Style

~Pineapple Pizza~ (Double American Diamante ) Pizza It's delicious Just have some With lots of mushrooms Red green peppers Ham add Zest Add Pineapple slices Bring to table Share with family friends Have two slices For you Too. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2012

Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015

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I feel helpless I dont know where to start, 
you are one of my four beating hearts, 
the second beauty I brought into this world, 
I can only watch from a distance, 
from the barrier you set to others, 
I feel the need to wonder because I feel helpless, 
its fear that sets my weakness for you ,
a fear that has hit like a tidal wave I feel helpless, 
you seem so alone and I dont know why,

I watch you ....emoitionless and I just want to cry I feel helpless, 
it's a world of mental illness I could never understand,
it's a weakness always judged even at my own hand,
But now I see you suffer harder and harder days, 
with no way of hepling I feel helpless,

My second born daughter so beautiful and strong,
for all you go through and your days still go on,
you wake day by day and you hold ur hands high,
to the reason you stay in this world, 

I can only be glad you think of me that way because I feel helpless.

Copyright © Chantelle Rostoll | Year Posted 2014

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The Cherry Kiss

                                           Closer closer now
                                  Just a touch to the lips dear
                                          Cherry flavor kiss

                                          A little touch love
                                   Delightful fruit 'on tongue
                                           Cherry favorite

For the contest:
A Fruit Kiss

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011

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Apple Pickin' Time

Me and Sweetie pickin’ apples -
Ones for making pies we find.
While my Sweetie climbs the ladder,
I stand watching from behind.

In his levis he’s a cutie,
plucking apples from the tree.
Meanwhile, I admire his booty
since he’s faced away from me!

Apple pickin’ time is nice,
but what we’ve gathered will suffice.
Me and Sweetie think alike -
We need to add a little spice!

Me and Sweetie pickin’ apples -
Ones for making pies we find.
While my Sweetie climbs the ladder,
I stand watching from behind.

Underneath this autumn sun
I’m so glad I have my guy.
Apple pickin’ time is done.
I’m ready for my sweetie pie!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013

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The Forbidden Fruit

Eve presents the fruit, the forbidden fruit A special unknown fruit from that one tree A fruit that God said one should never eat Then the snake came to shower the fruit free Nothing bad, he says, will come from eating God didn’t want the power to be known The snake explained that they would be as God Satan showed his ploy so well, he has sown We took the fruit and ate it and life changed We now have knowledge, of good and evil Pain and hatred also came along too All that is bad sure did come to reveal God cursed the snake, that of the devil’s tool But we must carry our sin for all time The curse from the first bite that we did eat And it wasn’t worth the pain we aligned God was quite disappointed with humans Hating to give us our just punishment But we were now found walking with figs on Ashamed of not doing God’s commandment To this day we are filled with sin each day Starting right from the first couple’s mistake Now we must wallow inside their bad choice Suffering the punishment we did make
Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013

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purple gold

purple gold 
payday on Friday
migrants' plainsong

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2013

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Chico's Fruit Stand

She found him in the yellow pages.
"Do you sell pecans?"

"Yes Ma'am, we do."

"I make a killer pecan pie,
how 'bout a trade?"

"You've got a deal."

"I have two, 
still warm from the oven."

"I'll take both."

She delivered the pies,
purchased oranges, plums, 
pineapple and grapefruit.

She bundled out, arms loaded 
with fruit, and all the pecans
previously displayed on his counter.

His voice followed her to the car,
"My favorite is coconut cream,
still warm from the oven."

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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Red Wine (Reflection)

Have you ever had sweet strawberry wine?
    Delicious fruit from straight off the vine
       The heady taste….a love of mine
            Delicate and tempting me
              Of summer sun and free
                 Have a glass and see
                  Shimmers of light
                   Glimmers bright
                        Star sight                         
                         I might
                     dream delight
                   September night
                  Ah…this fantasy
             Of that crimson berry
        Two chilled glasses-you and me
      The heady taste….a love of mine
   Delicious fruit from straight off the vine
 Have you ever had sweet strawberry wine?

I call this form Reflection
Lines go from ten syllables down to one then one syllable back up to ten
With a rhyme scheme of aaa bbb ccc dd ccc bbb aaa and the first three lines
Are the same as the last three lines.
Inspired by Mr. Michaels original form contest

Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009

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Passion Of Eve

And Eve who had never been ashamed of her nakedness, 
Who had never had a single fear, 
Now knew all the evils that would come into this world,
The poison of the fruit had opened her eyes,
She could seperate neither Good or Truth,
From Wickedness and Lies;
And she loathed her body,
She feared the thought it might give to men, 
She knew not the power that it held, 
She knew not that her flesh was sacred,
She felt ashamed of her skin, 
Seeing that the world would crave perfection, 
And knowing not that she was already perfect,
And so she tried to hide, 
She covered wounds that were not yet made,
And wept for her daughters yet unborn, 
Who would suffer crimes against them that were so wicked it made her skin crawl, 
Her soul came alive with the pain, 
And it burned as she wept.

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2015

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A Book of Soul for The Heartwarmer

One individual called "she" stepped into the sheets of a life story
Sheets that used to be occupied
She walked back and stopped at a chapter which tell the story of an obsolete chamber
A space which stands for behalf of the memory and wounds

A diorama played by shadow
A story with no beginning nor end
They've been there with decent backgrounds and decent light spectrum but called gray
The view was frozen, the chatter was muted, and that feels fell into the melancholy

Those with the outstretched hands which too high to be reached
Those with the self existence but too blind to be seen 
They abandoned as a figure of reserves without knowing the essence of a solace

And that individual creature went on her way back to the labyrinth of time

This time someone seized by the story of a root baste
Those roots were heart in shape and the hue carved a warmth, but once howled a bitterness
This chapter tells the story of a lush tree with the fruit of love
Fruits that contain the complexity of love, passion and a place to berth

And the fruit of love revealed its story to someone

Those who hide behind their false mannerism had carved their name on her shoulder
Those who have offered their hearts and bent on their knees 
Those who play fire in a lust, fell into a seek
But the love that she wants still unable to cover the part of this story

From the fruit of love to the sheet's of light

This chapter tells the story of an old house with extensive bed of flowers
This house represented the aesthetics, peace and harmony
A house which brings relief, spaciousness and joy
In that house she knelt, release all her mess
To the house the journey was anchored

In every sketches that have been through
None could live without the presence of others too

Obsolete chamber, lush love tree, beautiful bed flowered old house
Those who were involved in each story of the bulkhead of life
Those who were crawling along and came from different angles of infinity
Those who were instantly filled the pieces of shoot and became the shoot

They are the perfect gift for the imperfect souls
Not as a complement nor as a reserves
Yet as the major part of the heartwarming life story

Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2012

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A Mutiny on the Bounty

It was a sight that I could not forsee
Ambushed by my own men at morning hour
Hands tight with cord and naked from the waist
A mean air on the Bounty blew unkind
It was the troubled wind of mutiny
My men, whose morals all have been erased
Once officers, now Pirates inward-out
Reached for the Bounty as a gang of thieves
Abused and overturned by thine own dogs
If only that thy men were proud Marines

His Majesties Ship was all but a voyage
To Tahiti where the breadfruit lay
Our mission was to gather in abundance
Thy fruit as diet for the English slaves
Yet as for fruit, my men did taste the women
How beautiful the native women were
In all compare, the beauty of a Goddess
From skin to tone one also could compare
Her beauty to her Island, a paradise
'Twas something in the air of that fine land
That made savages of my poor pale men

With every fruit aboard the ship to sea
But of themselves, themselves rather not leave
Yet off we sailed, and carelesness carressed
Uncomfort in the head and shoulders of men

Which are ye stubborn fools, cowards or clowns?
Yes from my tongue my words did lash a whip
Upon scoundrels of little self-esteem
Art thy mind but a pyramid of mold?
Again, to officers I raised the question
Are ye capable of morality?
What ounce of Navy blood dost ye concur?
Must curiosity outweigh thy wit?
Where art thou mothers breast, you babe of fools?
Ye brains, the size of grapes and tasteless wine
It seems to me thou intellect is ill

Not once did I not discipline untruth
To say my words of truth, an sharp-edged sword
Did strike my men again, again, and again
Without truth we are fools and prisoners
Compared to other Captains, I was mild
For these men did not realize in themselves
Their duties, yet beguiled by their desires

'Twas like a clockwork orange of secrecy
A little rum and brand of mutiny
That caused this plan of treason to incur
And in my cabin did my rascals storm
Seizing that I may not utter a sound
Forcing me on to deck, my mutineers
This officer Pirate scorn, Fletcher Christian
Whose own words..."I'm in hell, I am in hell"
Now forcing me onto the Bounties launch
A twenty-three foot boat, in seconds 'twas
Overloaded with eighteen loyal men
Against the waves that wanted us to drown
And many storms whose plans were our demise
Against all odds, an underprovisioned boat
Beyond the verge of probability
Unsound skiff through such dangerous a sea
A subsequent quest three thousand miles and more
Did I return unto the English shores
To thine Judges, is court martial the question?
Do pardon me for thine loss of the Bounty

Copyright © Johnny Sumler | Year Posted 2011

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Scrumptous Birthday Cake (For "Dreamy Desserts" Contest Sponsored by: Linda-Marie Bariana)

(AKA - "Becca Baked My Birthday Cake")

Surprise!  Strawberry scents permeated the air.
Mountains of creamy pink lured fingertips.
Bewitching chocolate with fresh fruit inside, 
Luscious and succulent tempted watery lips.

Enlivened young children could hardly wait.
Tiny little fingers did not hesitate.
Dipping in the icing, a lip-smacking delight.
To tell you the truth, neither could I wait.

Fluffy and moist, strawberry infused confection.
Delightfully melted on the first tasting tongue.
Four layers baked had delicately arisen.
Delectably glazed before delicious had sprung.

It was that yummy year, and homemade birthday cake,
She showed me through baking how her love pierced my heart.
Fresh fruit decorated cake with special designs.
Chocolate dipped strawberry delight, her loves’ impart! 

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2010

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Obsessive Orange

Obsessive Orange Ethereal glow beckoned from the skies of Saville, passionately ripening the luscious fruit in the grove. After a bitter feud, Sunny obsessed over every acre. Unable to stand the acidity in her pith, he returned to the citrus trees where he worked, his mind preoccupied by her zesty perfume and juicy, lascivious flavour. He wanted to peel the clothes from his tawny skin and hold her with that tenacious grip. Her desire grew plump, blood red, and perfect for picking. He wanted to taste her every segment, devour her endless pulp, squeeze her firmness, to ensure her flawlessly timed harvest. And as the imperial sun set on the ochre valley, he cordially consumed his sweet succulent orange... bitterness begotten before bed. Inspired by United Colours: Orange Contest Sponsored by Silent One 18th April 2016 Nicola Byrne

Copyright © Nicola Byrne | Year Posted 2016

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God's Love is not a Weapon

The church we sought to find a home in no longer exist.
Our courage is strong, our future belongs to temptation consisting sin.

Woods cut and gathered with selfless labor shall provide us a ship.
This is where I realized that Noah was wrong let the story begin....

The bible has been written by other humans and not by god himself,
If that were the case this place we call earth would surely be squashed by his thumb:

If Noah was chosen by the lord himself why wasn't there taken a vote.
Only those true to the cause, who never broken a law are the only ones who can travel afloat.
If you ask me workers with skills, hunters, doctors, and authors had to be put on the boat.

Waves. collided with storm, some fell overboard, and disease killing the most.
This was not a story written down in the bible, it was clearly a religious joke.

Finally a sigh, purely blue sky. God questioned himself an said this must be why.
After the glory of Independence wore off,
cold came with hunger, sickness with coughs.

Prolonged by sinister thoughts.
Tundra frozen softened, by mayflower drops.

Searching for freedom of religion has fueled actions of the devil himself.
Natives survived years beyond measure and offered to help.
Simple measures of using world greatest treasures,
are kind to share if all is replenished.
Rivers provide water to fish, drink, and refresh.
All mother earth asks is to be shared and respected.

In the name of any religion, sins are forgiven
mothers love fathers, and together form children.
God is good, life can be better.
jesus sacrificed his life for happiness of others.

Where did it all go wrong?

Copyright © Gerald Moise | Year Posted 2016

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You're beautiful, he said
wanna grab a bite to eat
it wasn’t the kind of invite
to sweep a woman off her feet
but I accepted anyway
certainly, I said intrigued
I’m a vegan
what do you like to eat?
mac and cheese, sweet potatoes
and homecooked ham
fried chicken, collard green
chitlins with candy yams
what about you, baby
what you like to eat?
turned by his bluntness
my mouth could hardly speak
kale, brussel sprouts
rooted veggies like carrots and beets
in fact
I don’t believe in harming animals
I don’t indulge in any meats
he lowered his glasses
stood back on his jazzy feet
damn, girl you some kind of vegan freak

Copyright © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2015

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Christmas, Minus One

We said our goodbyes in June,
and the months since blur into mist.
At unexpected moments, awareness
of loss hits; tears spill unbidden.

Family gathering, Christmas Eve 
as usual . . . minus one.
We quietly exchanged gifts, 
found flowers from her funeral 
crafted into hand-made jewelry, 
kaleidoscopes, treasured mementoes.

I cooked grapes today, dark muscadines.
I extracted seeds and peelings, 
and measured life-sustaining juice 
through the metal funnel she used 
from the day of her marriage.
It came to me dented and bent, 
like her body had been at 93.

I still taste those fresh-from-the-oven 
chocolate rolls after school, 
garden tomatoes warmed by the sun, 
hot biscuits with apple jelly, 
squeezed from the peelings after 
she baked crisp slices in cinnamon-rich pie.

I'm glad I didn't know then,
about being allergic to Cinnamon.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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Rachel, sweetest looking peach on such a high branch
A teasing sway in her round hips, full of undiluted
gorgeous femininity
Eyes as blue as sky and a voice that is felt all over,
more like a warm breeze than sound
Aesop might recommend the lesson of the sour grapes,
but his Greek eyes never saw such a perfect
northern beauty as Rachel. He would have to
eat his words and tell his tale in reverse; how this unreachable
treasure made all the low hanging fruit taste sour


Copyright © Yort Watson | Year Posted 2014