They're Santa Rosas, crimson, touched by blue,
with slightly mottled skin and amber flesh,
transparently proposing by their hue
the splendor of an August morning, fresh
but ruddy, ripening toward fall.—"So sweet,
so cold,' the poet said; but this one's tart,
its sunny glow perfected in deceit,
as emulation of a cunning heart.
I eat it anyway, until the pit
alone remains, with scattered drops of juice,
such sour trophies proving nature's wit:
appearances and real in fragile truce.
Awesome write, love my Plums, and you have described and presented them so perfectly as they are found in real life.. adding this one to my favorite list.. thanks for sharing
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Beautiful train of thought, well articulated and nicely penned in poetic diction with conviction. An insightful poem depicting of the bitter-sweetened taste of plumes subtly written in good rhyme scheme. A lovely poem indeed. Thanks for sharing Catharine. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.