Wild persimmon
nice and round
just hanging from my tree
Pumpkin-colored
beautiful
as tasty as can be
But do not pluck
don’t be a sucker
It will surely
make you pucker
Just let it ripen
till it falls
and then you will agree!
Categories:
persimmons, nursery rhyme,
Form: Rhyme
Her lips were of Persimmon pink
Her nails of Porcupine
And when she puckered up to kiss
You’d better which your spine!
Her eyes could penetrate the night
Like lasers from a gun
and when she set her eyes on you
Oh boy, you’d better run!
Let’s not forget about her feet
At “Bunny” speed, no less
She’ll hop right in and nibble when
she finds out your address
Persimmons, porcupines and guns
And with those Rabbit’s feet
She’ll chase and kiss and scratch and burn
What might she like to eat!
Categories:
persimmons, cute love, humorous, love,
Form: Rhyme
Does sucking lemon leave you licking your lips.
Does a lime leave you light and fresh.
When I even think of touching the tongue,
to either of those it turns my mouth inside out.
But not as bitter and bad as the not ripe persimmon.
When persimmons have peaked before picking,
which is usually after the first hard frost.
No more delightful delicacy dares to compete.
It is absolutely aromatic and awes with sweetness.
But tasted before that time takes courage
the second time it is tasted.
For it puckers the palate
galls up the gullet
tortures the tongue
and makes your mouth mindful
of a rough coating everywhere.
Luscious love is a little like that.
Building from lust, bursting forth in bloom,
bringing deep biological urges
blossoming forth after mutual respect
begins to bear witness to bonafide adoration.
Let it linger and languish low profile letting
nature nourish each nuance until the frost
of fastidiousness finds love complete.
Resplendently ripened and reveling in readiness
it awaits only the arrival of articulated amours
to be plucked as is the ripened persimmon.
© Aug 28 2010 Charles Henderson
Categories:
persimmons, lovelove, time,
Form: Free verse
In the wooden bowl
Persimmons on the table
Next to the fruit cake
Half eaten on a large plate
Leftover cheese and crackers
Categories:
persimmons, life
Form: Tanka
I woke
to the billowing curtains
blowing in the breeze,
and the scent of jasmine
just outside my window.
This once perfect garden now sparse:
the unkempt grass,
the bougainvillea, and
the persimmon tree that we loathe--
an over-abundance of ripening fruit.
The early morning sun
casts a hazy pillar of light
on my bedroom floor.
Don't wake me up.
Categories:
persimmons, introspection, life, nature, peace,
Form: Free verse
I woke this morning
to the billowing curtains
blowing in the breeze,
and the scent of the jasmine
just outside my window.
This garden is sparse:
the unkempt grass,
the bougainvillea, and
the persimmon tree we all loathe--
an over-abundance of ripening fruit.
The early morning sun
casts a hazy pillar of light
on my bedroom floor.
Categories:
persimmons, introspection, nostalgia, peace, visionary,
Form: Free verse