 |
| by Margaret Bednar |
My red-tipped tongue swipes sour-sweetness
from upper lip, hand-held fan hiding half my face,
an attempt to hide transgressions ...
for I can't restist temptation.
June's soft breeze and rapidly moving paper fan
imprinted with the Savior's face,
challenges mid-afternoon's heatwave
surely reminiscent of Hell.
Yet the perfumed shade evokes images of Eden,
tree limbs laden with plump, ripe sourness
as thumb and fingers grasp hold, gently pull,
pop another red explosion into puckered mouth.
I stop fanning, ask forgivenss,
for Mother has cautioned a belly-ache
and Grandmother desires the bounty
for cherry pies, cobbler, and jams
for which we will gather around the table,
give thanks. And I promise (once again)
to fill the bucket, aware of the stickiness of the imperfect ones
upon the ground beside the fan.
Look into Jesus's gaze, hope He understands.
by Margaret Bednar, February 27, 2020.
This is linked with "Poets and Storytellers United - Weekly Scribblings #8 - Red Fruit Rendition". I've totally re-written this poem - I've struggled over the years to get it just right. I think I like this version the best. Let me know what you think . HERE is an older version if you are interested.
HERE are some amazing cherry recipies.
7 comments:
This is my favorite part:
“aware of the stickiness of the imperfect ones
upon the ground beside the fan”
Spoken like a little girl fresh from the orchard!! You describe it so beautifully I can taste mother's cherry pie!
Of course I love this! From the religious perspective and a generational perspective and add to that the sheer wonder of juicy fruit in an orchard ... sigh.
This is incredibly evocative, Margaret!🍒 I love both the versions .. there is certain magic in older poems and a hint of promise in new ones. I resonate with temptation and the constant struggle to prevent oneself from succumbing to it. Thank you so much for writing to the prompt!💝💝
PS: I also loved the cherry recipes. Yumm!!
Before you got to it I was thinking of the "forbidden fruit." You did well, Margaret.
I did feel for those imperfect laying by the fan.
..
"Yet the perfumed shade evokes images of Eden,
tree limbs laden with plump, ripe sourness
as thumb and fingers grasp hold, gently pull,
pop another red explosion into puckered mouth."
Perfect!
I love it. I also liked very much the shorter, simpler version you referred us to, but I think this one is richer.
(Only I am gobsmacked and a bit distracted at the thought of the Saviour’s face on a fan. Do people really do that? Oh well, why not, i suppose — only it does seem strange. Then again, I have never lived among the devout, so what would I know?)
Post a Comment