Gentle rain storms heighten the scent of lilac bushes lining the fence anticipating perennials lively from the dampness and the sun when days stay dry carrying a bucket of water in one hand walking barefoot to hydrate them meanwhile sunshine fruits are being morphed into juice behind the silk curtains I see the wrinkled hands firmly holding fruit peels covered in shiny liquid rays focus on her hands just right this view dripping in citrine shades.
The juices you know you’re sipping The mango peach goodness ******* these fruits Tasting their sweetness Drinking the sugars Drowning in the flavoring
Yellow in the cup Yellow in the eyes Enjoying the dancing Reaping the benefits of your fruit Slipping in extra flavor to drown in it
Make a man go crazy over a peachy princess But the juice in the golden holy grail Is the truth of planting seeds in the soil A fruitful soul can grow But keeping the poison will put you below
the tree grew in rocky soil - now its fruit is decaying. its seeds fell into the same rocky soil, sprouting into trees with the same decaying fruit.
these trees feel the decay. they know to spread their seeds where the soil is fertile. and the resulting trees will bear ripe fruits for future generations.
When I had no will of mine You went all the miles When I couldn’t talk You were my voice When I couldn’t walk Your back was my cart When my eyes couldn’t see You were my sight When I knew not a thing You were my secret guide O sweet mother My back bone is you
Her hair smelled like strawberry sun, her skin lightly powdered like a baker’s bun, you picture her on your luncheon plate. Being swallowed by your slimy throat Will never become her fate.
