Strawberry, plump king, sunned
to sleep, dreams red juice.
Raspberry, his tumble-jester, bounces
through court, delicately free. Fat-faced
Blueberry mumbles complaint, the best
purple advice. Bramble works the fields,
setting with tangle and tang
the limits of neat. Cranberry
sucks its mouth and cleans on, firm
in kitchen and home, while Huckleberry,
too sweet for some, plays
all summer long. Autumn looks
to winter, and weeps sour
the unpicked Gooseberry, a fool
her only hope!
Hat tip to Rupert for the culinary suggestion. You, sir, are a darling!
You can make a fool out of gooseberry.
ReplyDeleteAnd too many chefs can spoil the broth, bitch!
ReplyDelete...and thus his eloquence left him naked in the rain...
ReplyDeleteatchally now that one's artistic flare(up) has died down a smidge, one finds your observation to have its merits. The word "fool" might serve very well in that very spot.
ReplyDeleteI retreat to ponder...
Yeah, that would make a great second variation.
ReplyDeleteYou two remind me of Gollum and Sméagol.
how so Martin? Are they not one and the same?
ReplyDeleteI see your pondering bore fruit Toby.
My first hat tip, cool..
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