L Milton Hankins Poet Triolet

Come July, Blackberries

Come July, blackberries ripen on prickly vine
Hug fence-lines defining the dusty country road
Twittering thrushes flutter, chirping while they dine
Come July, blackberries ripen on prickly vine
Sweeter fruits like faceted black diamonds shine. 
Picking must begin before tall grasses are mowed
Come July, blackberries ripen on prickly vine
Hug fence-lines defining the dusty country road.

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D.W. Rodgers May 19, 2021 at 4:59 PM Well crafted, your poem brought back fond memories of blackberries on my grandfather's farm in Kansas, along English country lanes and on Vancouver Island. Extremely invasive but oh so good. L Milton Hankins May 19, 2021 at 5:39 PM Ah, thanks, D.W. I'm so glad you liked it and that it brought back fond memories. I love it when my poems do this.

Rico Leffanta May 19, 2021 at 12:22 PM My late wife never missed a season of blackberry picking, so our children received OJT on life's pricks! Aloha! Rico L Milton Hankins May 19, 2021 at 1:11 PM LOL. I never thought of it quite that way! Thanks for the smile, Rico. Aloha. I spent 3-1/2 years in Hawaii in the Air Force way back when.

Gershon Wolf May 18, 2021 at 8:55 PM Sweet treatment, Milt. Takes me to a country road teeming with berry bushes by its side. ~ Country Gershon L Milton Hankins May 18, 2021 at 9:58 PM LOL. You pick'em, I'll help you eat'em!

Ann Foster May 18, 2021 at 1:26 PM So much fun... and a wonderful subject. Excellent all the way around. Ann L Milton Hankins May 18, 2021 at 6:05 PM Thank you, Ann. I appreciated your read and your comment.

Robert L. Hinshaw May 18, 2021 at 12:45 PM I really enjoyed your write, Milton. Reminded me so much of growing up on a farm in Indiana and blackberry/raspberry picking time, stained fingers and all! Better yet was the scrumptious jams and jellies my Mom made. Bob H L Milton Hankins May 18, 2021 at 1:22 PM So true, Robert. Warm memories for me, as well.

Heidi Sands May 18, 2021 at 12:28 PM This is a great Triolet. I can see them hugging the fence, along the dusty road and them shining like black diamonds. So nice. :) L Milton Hankins May 18, 2021 at 1:22 PM Thank you, Heidi. I'm glad you enjoyed my poem.

Jan Allison May 18, 2021 at 12:22 PM ooh makes me think of autumn and picking fruit or apple and blackberry pies, a delightful poem Milton:-) hugs Jan xx L Milton Hankins May 18, 2021 at 12:23 PM Thanks so much, Jan. My grandma made the best blackberry pies if we would go pick them. When she was a little girl, she lost an eye while blackberry-picking.

Daniel Turner May 18, 2021 at 12:14 PM You are making this ol' country boy's mouth water. I love blackberries but I hate picking them as far as black diamonds, shoot everybody loves cold watermelon in July:) Good one Milton! You must be from the south:) L Milton Hankins May 18, 2021 at 12:18 PM I am West Virginia mountaineer born and bred. I recall so well picking blackberries along the roadside near my grandparents' home. Thanks for your read and your comment. Hey! I love watermelon, too, but I love it with salt, and I can't eat salt anymore. Doctors keep finding ways to deprive me of life's little pleasures!