Seasons of a Fruitful Tree
I love my little corner of the yard
when nearby Lilac Bush perfumes the air.
The human dwellers treat me with regard.
They sit behind their house and simply stare.
They gaze on me while I am in the pink
and blooms on me are streaked with white and rose.
They sometimes deeply breathe my scent; I think
they like me best when I’m in fancy clothes.
In time, their small ones stay around all day
and swing from ropes strung from my strongest arm.
I’m glad to serve my young friends in their play.
But later, I bring forth my greatest charm.
My ovaries expand and overlap. . . . .
My luscious fruit gets plucked, and then I nap!
Feb 17, 2021
for the 'Open Poetry 2' Contest of Charlotte Puddifoot
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