Strawberry Tree

It does not grow strawberries.
It grows bland-tasting, fuzzy globules
That ripen just before they drop,
Puce and squishy.
Unripe, the fruits are variously
Parrot green, plum yellow,
Tangerine or cardinal.
Flowers dangle beside them:
Wax shells tinged with pink,
Autumn-born and winter-lasting,
Delicate as snow.

Ever-green but ever-changing,
Ever-graceful with curved
Grey trunk and slender
Branches, it crouches
By the white road above the olive
Groves and vales of pines,
Bird-visited but not
Depleted, rich with its
Neglected harvest.
 

by Damaris West

Read the story behind this poem
 

All content is the property of either Damaris West or the poem's author as appropriate and may not be reproduced in any way without their written permission.

Home page | Sitemap | Feedback Form | Add to favorites | Submit a poem | Respond to a poem
Useful links | About the webmaster | Privacy promise | Poem and Poet | Favorite poems | Link to me
A brief history of poetry | Day of the week for the date | Poetry material | Tuition

~ Poem and Poet ~