Ripe and Ready Cherry RedsA Poem by Chris Shaw
In my sunlit autumn garden
drenched by warmth of soon lost heat, tumbling down from hanging wicker, ripe for picking, fine to eat. Clusters drooping, loop de looping, sweet sensation on the tongue. Cherry toms abundant, heavy, "Pick me, pick me, I am done". Toss them first with fresh chopped basil, squeeze of lemon, olive oil. Season with a pinch of salt grains, ground black pepper, else you'll spoil. "Don't desert me, shun or hurt me, while you laze and toast in sun. You'll be sorry come October, when my fruiting days are done".
© 2018 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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Added on September 18, 2018Last Updated on September 18, 2018 AuthorChris ShawBerkshire, United KingdomAboutAlbert, my paternal grandfather introduced me to Tennyson when I was nine. I have loved poetry ever since but did not attempt writing a single piece until I was 40. It's never too late to try somethin.. more..Writing
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