Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Lemon-spilled thoughts





















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pickled lemon,
salty sourness;
sunshine yellow bottled
as muddy reddish hot-lick;
i wander back,
a lemon plant summons
 outside kitchen window, fullness---
skirt rustling over leaves
pushed back by thorns,
wild button flowers beaming,
juicy-grass bed kissing,
huge trees greeting---
days of lemon-fresh laughter,
i picked the lemons from the past;
lemon-fresh soul,
pickled lemon in bottles---
tickling taste reviving memories

existence spread over time and space
notes on a musical thread with no end
flow and flow as rhyming waves



Linking this poem with IGWRT - Tuesday Platform.

6 comments:

  1. The smell of lemons is firmly entrenched in memory - how we bottle and preserve the quality and colour of these fruits says a lot about our regard for those thoughts.

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  2. Isn't it strange a scent like this can take us back scores of years (in my case) to recall childish memories?

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  3. Oh! I just adore this! "Lemon plant summons" is so good... wonderful.

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  4. I do love to bottle the scent of summer... we have just made elder flower syrup... makes a very good winter lemonade... if we had lemons we would try to keep it.

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