Last night for dinner, I cracked open a jar of our homemade canned peaches for the boys as a treat before we left for our weekly parents-only-date. Home canned peaches can be counted on as a reliably well received treat. I love remembering summertime as I open each jar and thinking fondly of how great this summer ahead of us will feel when it finally arrives. I love that they can so well so that I can keep these golden reminders in my pantry.
And then this morning, cleaning out the diaper bag, I found this poem that I wrote over Thanksgiving break, wedged into a pocket. Seems like fortuitous timing.
A bunch of the folks in A's family are writerly types and since there were lots of us word lovers all together in one place we decided to write poetry. Searching for some unifying theme to write on, we settled on Mahatma Gandhi's Seven Deadly Sins, and each of us selected one. I chose "Pleasure Without Conscience" and used a peach as my vehicle. Happy Poetry Friday!
If you feel like joining in on Poetry Friday or reading more poems today, hop on over to Laura's blog.A peach in my hand, during canning this past August.
Peachy Keen
"Stolen water is sweet, food eaten in secret is delicious." - Proverbs 9:17
I tell you, Old Solomon
Can keep his guilt-sweet water
I'm full up myself on the
Zinging, musical chin-drip
Experience of this single peach
Sun-warmed, love-fed, brought
To market in the back of an
Honest man's pick-up
No semi-haul, pest-spray, gmo-fest
Lowered-standards, mealy-fleshed corner cutter
Just 8 hard earned dollars from
My tip apron
And a sunset globe in his open
Brown hand that has wiped the
Sweat from an honest brow.
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