This Poem was Submitted By: Molly Johnson On Date: 2001-08-10 17:31:30 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Ripe

When berries are ripe they crush under their own sweet weight.  I ripen in the same laden way  with sugar rime that glistens  crystal around the tender edges.  It’s a late harvest  to be hand picked.  Roll the dust off lush lust  and feed me too. 

Copyright © August 2001 Molly Johnson

Additional Notes:
Previously published on thepoetsguild.com


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