There are fruits aplenty, Seeds blow, clematis breaks free,
though the lawn is tall plums and pears ripely fall,
and brambles choke the trees. though brambles choke the trees.
Runner beans knot sweet peas Empty plates for china tea,
and trellis hangs from walls. no answer when I call.
There are fruits aplenty. There are fruits aplenty.
Redcurrants hang in canopies,
stacked crates of apples in the hall,
yet brambles choke the trees.
Sorrow grows on without me
that nature will outlive us all.
There are fruits aplenty,
but brambles choke the trees.
Big Mac loves company –
a quarter pound of flesh
and frothy hopes for youth.
Devouring deep fried dreams,
they fret about fat,
but can’t resist the flurry of friendship,
shaking and moving
in late night drive-thrus,
cream of the crop,
sustained by things Mama used to make.
Pushing the start of season,
new shoots sprout with dorsal ease
from winter seeds,
split by late frost and noon sun.
I hope for future crops,
to taste success,
to prune and reap.
For now I love
the end of sleep;
the freshness of spring soup.
Almond milk, organic, steamed, poured over shots
of hot, smoked Arabica,
steeped with shards of cinnamon,
flown from India, peeled by the blind.
I stir, scoop foam.
A solitary coffee bean, alone,
polished, shined, reminding me
where I am, why I care.
Peek Freans treats
All Stars crisps
Galactic Space Dust
Um Bongo juice
Mojos, Pacers, Quattro, Screwballs
Whickers, Piglets, Noodle Doodles
Which ones bring back memories?
How many pleasures cease to be?