Best Naturefruit Poems
There are times when the sun doesn't shine,
like an orange not juicy nor sweet.
If the fruit of the sky doesn't open its eye
then the flavor of life will deplete.
What a horrible season--the rain--
as if onions made cumuli cry!
Who has need of a spice that can yield nothing nice
for the people beneath such a sky?
Though I know today's fruit will be sweet,
for this orange I have, newly born,
is delicious and lush like a ripe apple's blush--
see the sun on the bough of the morn?
Merrily cherries were chatting with berries on bunches of bushes below;
the cherries were scaring the berries with stories that every new berry should know:
"Beautiful cherries are succulent very so we became fruit of the sky,
but pitiful berries on earth where you tarry cannot please the tongue nor the eye.
Innocent berries I pray you be wary for mortal consumption is nigh,
and it must be scary to die along dairy in coffins that they call a pie!"
Hominal creatures with ravenous features were coming to pick their dessert.
But which one will sweeten the pie to be eaten the fruit of the sky or the earth?
"It will be scary when they pluck 'n bury your souls in their pies to digest;
I hear such a pastry is terribly tasty when given a berrily zest!"
Mary saw favor in that which had flavor so she found the cherries the best;
the cherries were shaken their rubies were taken to bake in a fiery chest.
Scarily berries were mourning the cherries who fell to a sugary greed;
although all the berries were no longer wary for cherries are tasty indeed!
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I planted two black current stumps of un-remarkable descript on the packet.
An all wirery and stringy affair well dug in and enriched
I expected juicy black currents ! Vitamin packed.
I could not imagine my benefit in my second summer.
A grafted root of rasberries grew out of my blackcurrent stump
A double bonus. The other stump a full black current plant.
I had two neat bushes perfectly swaying and set on their grassy knoll
Little fruit appeared that second summer.
The third summer was different, very different.
My four square feet had turned into twenty four square feet.
My shock at the spread of these rasberries. They abound.
They spring to their perfect leaves from everywhere. So prolific.
Vast amounts of rasberies and some blackcurrents.
Red berries like beautiful rubies on view from the kitchen window.
A new living area. New life in the garden takes hold.
Thrushes of burnt brown feathers compete with me for berries.
The great tit lands but is not interested. The bull finch too.
A stray orange tabby walks the amazonian tree like bushes of my fruit bearers.
There is a draping of bird mess on the leaves now and again
but never on the friut. I carefully wash those fruits.
My uncle is old. He smokes. He heard a tale that someone said and asked :
Is it true that rasberies help prevent cancer and I say for care , Yes.
Yes, and I pick and wash them carefully. Wrap them carefully in new tin foil.
And I know I am contented at that moment that I had begun new life.
That I was helping to preserve old life. Or so I thought !