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Diana Newsome

Happy Summer

Her branches reach across the yard
tall and proud from season's gone by
dangling the jewels of summer
bringing forth ripe, tart
beautifully yellow' d lemons
picked, they are, in morning's wee hours
as not to be drenched in afternoon's southern humidity

Each lemon is tenderly placed in the crate
they spring forth a mouthwatering, fresh perfume
they ooze sweetest oil from their pores
dimples cover the richness of their peels
summer is all about lemons
about fresh, homemade, full of pulp,
thirst quenching, pucker up lemonade.

Happy Summer!

Copyright @ 08/21/2010

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Rooted Sweet Memory

Oh tender, fare youth
lavish me you must
lavish me in your sweetest perfume

come hither and whisper
in darkest of nigh
a most glorious hymn

linger, I crave
in these wrinkles of time
slumber, I pray in rhythms so fine...

Oh fond memory how long has it been
since last I glimpsed your youthful grin
or ran these starved fingers over your creamy soft skin

When last did I hold your trembling hands
to fathom, I ponder your treasures devine
rooted sweet memory, you have

[...] Read more

poem by Diana NewsomeReport problemRelated quotes
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