There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

by Edwin Morgan

Comments (6)

Beautiful simile for silence, for in silence we find peace within ourselves and silence avoids confrontation - no wonder the Rose reigns as Queen of the garden
i agree with C. P. Sharma, you must be good with songsinging.
You sing so well the superb poetry of their silence. Really ecstatic. CP
awesome poeeem <3333...
A beautiful simile for silence. In the language of flowers, this one speaks without sound. Warm regards, Sandra
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