Summer Sirens
Sweet seed-speckled sirens
under star or satellite compose juicy notes;
merry among roundish lined fans, straw-slept,
mesmerizing each sense when they call --
even ears sigh in mmm’s anticipation --
red hearts with green flouncy caps.
Soft, temperate zephyr
tells children its time to
run along rows, each
a carton in tow,
with intent --
berries hidden, to find, to
eat here and there, then
resisting, to plunk
red round gems, Iater to be washed, sliced, sugared,
irresitably compiled;
eaten with delight as
strawberry shortcake!
Björn is today’s host for dVerse’ OpenLinkNight.
Tao-Talk 
Strawberries warm in the sun what could be better… maybe the wild strawberries you thread on actual straws…
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I love the sibilance and alliteration in this poem, Lisa, and your descriptions of strawberries as ‘straw-slept’ and ‘red hearts with green flouncy caps’. I eat strawberries most mornings with kiwi, banana, yogurt and granola – my favourite breakfast!
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great stuff Li 🌟🌟 good one I love it! 💕💕
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Thank you for the inspiration.
To Be Relished
No labor is too great,
that I may taste
the delight of the seed
she plants in my heart,
subtle, but exquisite,
sweeter than any berry,
any savory siren.
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Your words and those images have nudged my nostalgia and I’m puzzled as to how different the sugar dusted strawberries of my (UK) childhood tasted compared to the very sweet ones that occur in New Zealand!
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