Strawberry

my 'Ode to the strawberry

    Sweet like a maiden’s first kiss.
    Full like a fisher man’s net.
    A fro of green like the forest’s moss.
    Studded amour from a knight sense past.
         At the beginning of life, shaded like that of  an Andradite.
    When ready, she’s the color of Crocoite.
        Preceded on the shrub by a flower of angel’s wings.
     A pair reside on Cupid’s cheeks.
       Ripe and ready for harvest, the village rejoice!
     The crop will be ready to feast, savor the juice for soon it’ll be gone.  
    The flavor must be, one of heavenly design.  
    Cool with summer shade, quenches as well as fills.
    Plucked from resting place,  along hill’s glade.
    The ground moist from recent rain.
     Butterfly’s drift from place to place, but here in this meadow is where they like it best.
    Follow you nose, for surly you will find, the meadow where pixies live.
    Where the crowns of kings, set with emeralds sit atop bases of dragon’s fire.
    



 

Reviews

[Christian Renz]

thanks for the encouragement

[LilyWriter]

Love this! Great imagery and detail in the poem. This is very light and whimisical. Keep up the great work.