This is for DVerse Poetics’s prompt, “Always in Season.” It turns out that, a few months ago, I wrote a different poem about an orange, which is interesting because I don’t like oranges that much. Nevertheless, they are evidently full of juicy inspiration!
I peeled an orange and found
Joy, inside that rough exterior peel,
Bordering on obnoxious with that summery citrus scent,
Joy in the juice which covered my fingers,
In the pulp which found its way
Under each one of my fingernails —
I peeled an orange and grabbed
Happiness, full of ripeness, because I wasn’t
Looking overly intently for it.
Hard to sustain this August heat:
I hope the temperature will not beat
100 degrees, wish it would stop
At 90 tops — but thankfully
The air-conditioning runs breezily,
A saving grace from summer sun,
It’s glorious and helpful hum.
For this prompt about autumn. It was nice to write about that season before we’re in it, kind of a fun idea. 🙂
“I am coming soon,” September whispers
From inside a relief-filled breeze
One August evening: She takes her time,
Letting the last days of summer languish,
Preparing to arrive on the scene
Wearing a dress of red and yellow leaves.
It was a real challenge to finish any poems halfway decently, although I started about 7 of them today. However, at last I have finished Linda’s paint-chip poetry challenge, which was to write a villanelle this week, using at least three of the phrases on the paint chips below. I like villanelles and writing them, but it was hard to write a whole one in a single day. I still appreciate the prompt because I don’t often write villanelles on my own. Most of my poems are much shorter.
For Ronovan Writes’s current décima challenge, LEAP in the D rhyme spot. This brought back happy memories of summers when I was a kid, and my brothers and I would go to the pool a lot. I could still can barely swim, but I loved playing in the pool.
Sweet, ripe strawberries convey the taste of summer. Store-bought may be bigger, but nothing can beat the beauty of garden-grown. The sun from my own back yard reddens the fruits, which have grown from hand-planted seeds, just as this daylight has grown from the seeds of winter nights. Teeth sink gratefully into the fruits of our labor.
This moment stands still
Reaching the peak of ripeness —
Sweet strawberry juice