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Shane Leigh Jan 10
A sharp ***** from my needle’s point.
Mother strides into the room
Licking the dark dye from freshly picked blackberries –
Her voice muffled from the fullness of her fingers.
Then, a sudden whir – of bees? –  resonating,
No doubt drawn from the sweet promises of berries.
We start, in a panic, towards the open window.
Moments after our plummet to the ground,
We look upon the back door, agape,
Awaiting our impromptu exit.
Sigh! Oh, how I hate the promises of berries.
© Shane Leigh
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮      
Flaky sheets of puff pastry
glazed and golden brown
Fresh vanilla cream kisses
Topped with sliced berries
Sift icing sugar
Sprig of mint
Second Epulaeryu of some berry mille-feuille.
C'est magnifique!
Lyn ***
sunprincess May 2018
Nothing says summer like,
pails full of fresh berries
straight from the vine
rainydaydreams May 2018
people are like blackberries
some sour
some bittersweet
some saccharine
sometimes you have to search the entire field to find the perfect one
Abigail Hobbs Apr 2018
They leave imprints
Digging into your grounded feet like roots
The bushes, their
full heads of hair
you crave to caress
Their words, oh-so-sweet, but oh-so-bitter berries
only good on the sun's terms
Their beings, rivers running through the forest
Forever trickling down the forest
You, forever hoping the river runs dry
The more the forested mind feeds into
thoughts of them
the more they grow
and the more they imprint
E McNamara Jun 2018
My lips are fresh berries
And my heart, a creamy peach.
When I speak,
My mouth drips mango juice,
Delectable and raw.
My mind is plentiful dragon fruit.
My eyes are green melon,
Bright and dewy.
My fingertips, fragile blackberries,
Tender and rich.
My lungs are tangy lemon slices.
To match my lemon soul-
Consuming crisp air.
My tongue, pleasant as pomegranate
**** and joyful.
I am alive.
Can you smell the peaches?
Meg Howell Mar 2018
A sour cherry,
The juice of a berry,
A broken canary,
A lullaby

Snow covered trees,
The nest of honeybees,
A cat with fleas,
A scene

Hands interlocked,
Traditional love mocked,
Insecurities docked,
A dream
Richard Grahn Oct 2017
This is the place where
The bear went through the berries
Grandma always said

Grandpa caught a fish this long
So he hung it by the bed
A  memory of my grandparents who were avid outdoors people. It  is with them that my love for nature found its roots.
Poetic T Aug 2017
In the bleakest sorrows,
you bring graceful elegance.

Maroon feathers catching upon
vacant scenery, stilled by seasons.

Rowan do your eyes attended to,
feasting on luscious  berries.

A wonderer of the skies dancing upon
flurries looking for your next meal.
Jim Davis Apr 2017
Fine spring beauty day
Seeking the agarita
Berries all must grab

©  2017 Jim Davis
From the web site wildedibletexas
"When agarita berries are ripe, they can be plucked from the bush and eaten raw though the tender-fingered should beware."

Actually, I had seen red berries in an agarita bush, I started plucking them, and ate a handful quickly as I have done in past years.  I was thinking to myself, these don't taste like I remember.  Then I discovered there was another plant growing amongst the agarita.   After a quick search on the web, I found out Nandina berries, while toxic to birds and other, are considered non-toxic to man.  

"The berries of the nandina plant contain hydrocyanic acid and are poisonous. They are toxic to cats, dogs and other grazing animals, and they can cause animals to experience seizures, comas, respiratory failure and death. They are considered nontoxic to humans but may cause stomach pain if ingested."

Thankfully, I lived! Moral: the stupid,  in addition to the tender-fingered, should also beware!
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