Poetry (57)

Hello Escritori,

Avast! (I felt that one should be piratical when triumphant) for I have producéd a piece of poesie sirrah! (later lapsing into Shakespeare…) I have it here for your consumption this Sunday morn.

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Strawberries

I went to the market

(And you must pardon me

If the results aren’t as sensuous

As Christina Rossetti’s)

But I found my eye attracted

To the punnets of strawberries.

 

They sweltered slickly

In the heat

Looking like the luscious

Souls of kisses

Laid out, and delicious

In clear plastic

Chapels of rest:

Rather more fleshly

Than their fleeting counterparts,

In a sanguinary substitution

Just as blessed.

 

Strawberries at least retain the moisture

(If not the intent)

Of kisses scattered across bare skin

On a summer’s day.

 

Given easily and just so

Again, evaporating away.

 

So bite instead

A vivid velvet heart

And the juice

Will sluice and zing.

And it being a soul,

Once you’ve swallowed it whole,

You’ll have experienced

A kiss; that will cling.

 

(© Copyright Pola Negri, 02/09/2016.)

 

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