A Week Of Summer Fruits Poem by Nero CaroZiv

Oh that summer week; I wish it could have been long as an age,
Felt parting and innocent; fresh scent of summer fruits like it never ends; every week;
Then poor years that staggered along my youth like a thousand years of fear and rage
The flush of anger and frustration on the my child cheek:


So would I linger my long life, aloof introvert in little space;
Wandering in citrus orchards sweet scent; by time my soul would be annihilate;
So a summer blessed day's journey in oblivious field haze
To serve my hidden joys would lengthen and dilate.


Nowadays mornings I contemplate my thought;
Recall pleasure moments; at calm evening long ago I taught
Myself how to harbor such happy thoughts; nevertheless none is for naught
A precious debt to myself I aught


Though these memories are absent for long time
My childhood days, these forms of beauty have been to me,
As a landscape never gone, never forgotten in scent and in be
But glorious, divine moments elongated in their prime

Being always close to my heart and revived to my eyes
Often they are conjured mid the din and diverse
To live with me under the broken roar ofcities, I have owed to them
The fresh, splendor, theview of on the hill tulips succulent stem


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