- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Strawberry Farm
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Click hereShe eats every single one she sees1,
I know.
I've been watching for a while now.
"Look after Cheryl", Mom had told me
when we arrived;
and I kicked the parking lot gravel,
but nodded and said I would.
I mean,
Cheryl's five, right?
She carries her own bucket;
she walks just fine;
no toddling, no weaving.
But I took her hand and set off,
"Not too far," Mom called to us,
and I nodded again,
settling along some thick bushes
three rows away;
within shouting range,
but out of those eagle eyes,
"Go get 'em, Cher," I said,
finding sis moments later, giggling and sharing a bush
with a friend she'd made on the fly;
and, behind them,
the friend's tender watched the pair
while I watched her;
blonde hair tinged appropriately,
stained fingers matching
the colour on her lips
and chin,
as the lingering juices
left by each bite she took
of every berry she picked
made me catch my breath,
feeling so much painful bliss.2
1in "Black Raspberry", by annaswirls ©2003.
2in "Tease My Empty Heart", by averagegina ©2004.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozalmost 17 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 36,500 poems.
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LilDarlinover 19 years agoAs the others commented. This reminded me of my berry picking days also, cept' well I did share,*grins*.. Loved this poem. Bright, witty, n sweet..Keep'm Comin~
Anonymousover 19 years agoI really like this poem, it made me smile thinking about my own experiences in berry patches... much the same as you've written here, Remec.
annaswirlsover 19 years agoOh I love it. I know this girl! Makes me long for summer again. Thanks for writing such a great poem to follow that line-- the poem made me really go back to when I wrote it, thank you, really.
