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Liz Sep 2022
Huge thorny sweet chestnuts bloom
As blackberries wither on the briar
Lightly dusted in silver and sagging
Off the stalks.
The path lined with oak and bramble.
Wonderful hues of brown and gold
Are now littered against green.
The air is cool and moist
As autumn gathers around.
Elaenor Aisling Aug 2021
The sigh of things gone,
echoes of hope and the
small prickles of a blackberry
as I turn it on my tongue
between knives of teeth.
I reach further into the bracken,
The tangle of thorns caressing, hooking themselves into my clothes,  
These are familiar pains,
Small scrapes of memory.
Petrichor, a reminder of our last walk
The clouds, tremendous waves breaking across the sky, coming storm
The plucked magnolia blossom wilting in my hand
How bitter it tasted on our tongues
I saw the berries, then, crimson unripe jewels
Vowed a Persephone return when they had turned onyx
And came back alone while you languished
In your underworld.

I can find sweetness amid the pain,
What have you found
To sustain  yourself ?
Nadia Sep 2019
All hail children of the waning summer
Sour and prickly, soft and sweet
These sun-wild children wander free
Blackberry stains on callused feet

NCL September 2019
ALesiach Jul 2019
One golden August day
Walking along the narrow lane

With ice cream pail in hand
Over the lush woodsy land

Looking for brambles of blackberries
Thirsting for their sweet juice in my belly

And nature's kindness does bestow
Along the lane unhindered they grow

Blackberries hang swollen on their vines
The first one a sweet addictive wine

Soon forgotten are the thorns
Each berry its own delectable reward

ALesiach © 07/26/2019
The Indian black berries
Bitter sour, tad bit sweet
Humble fruit
Low in cost
Benefits high
Sold everywhere in the month of June

Bought it off from a vendor off the street
Especially sold these
Segregated in three baskets
Each priced as per the size, way too high from the market price
Quality not compromised

Does life treat you the same
Quality quantity, a few adjectives to name
Aspen Welsch Feb 2019
Stop looking at me
as if I’m some
- thing
to swallow up
or spit out.
A berry, black, swollen
ready to be chosen for your
consumption. I sour on your
tongue, assaulting your
taste buds because you
thought the only
- thing
that mattered was the purplish black,
the juice that produced for your
pleasure, my ripe, plump bumps,
my green hands
outstretched ready and there, for you?
Still you pluck and **** and stare
and **** me up with your
barren compliments stripping
my sweet substance
one by one
by one, you
extract it out
of me
Brandon Conway Sep 2018

Dog days of summer
How doth thou steal
Sweet blackberry plunder
How will I ever heal?

Cars passed fast
breeze swishes trees
As if spirits
Floating so free

A whisper they hiss
run faster than fastest
to grocery store produce bliss
give those blackberries
                                  a little kiss
a tree
I hank
here this
fallen arc
yet the
loop in
terry that
a singularity
present now
go to
New Mexico
and the
ennui divided
there with
scrambled eggs
and this
dark star
A star of the east
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