Fruitful Day

apluntitled.png

In our orchard of iconic green, where
splendid are the fruits between
teasing branches of bearing trees, that
tantalise the snatching breeze.

Apples

Sour, from a canopy of delusion
Soiled its aftertaste of intrusion
Recoiled;  abhorrent the infusion

Ripened

Sweet and lustrous, radiant sheen
Reflections caught unlike unseen in
Lambent skin of nectarine

We eat

Pure sand gold thoughts of sun
Drifting echoes solidified as one
Sweet essences of laughter and fun

We join

Wind’s blusterous, busy conversation
No time to stop or inclination
Till harvested; aura of our destination

We sleep

In our orchard of iconic green, where
splendid are the fruits between
teasing branches of bearing trees, that
tantalise the snatching breeze.

 

 

Advertisements

Author: Anita Lubesh

I write poetry/prose/stories/short stories/verses for children/sketch/and have 6 chapters of a novel sitting there like that half eaten trifle in the fridge or bottle of Jack Daniels because something makes you afraid to eat it or drink... right now.. I am a proud Geordie from England's northern hemisphere and the beautiful city of Newcastle upon Tyne. I live with my lovely husband who came all the way from sunny California just for me, and my favourite animal, Bobble, our dog. I am a member of Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth and wish we could all do more, especially today, when such a lot is wrong.

7 thoughts on “Fruitful Day”

  1. Anita,
    I really liked the mini-series within the poem. To me it resembled the apples falling to the ground, each with its own story to tell.
    Dajena 🙂

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s