Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Don Bouchard Dec 2023
Approaching customs, my father slowed the car.
"Time to eat! he said, and pulled us to the side.
He'd bought peaches from a fruit stand,
Forgotten they'd never cross the border.

Never one to waste, his plan unfolded.
We stood beside the car, peach juice
Trickling down our arms,
Falling at our elbows,
Gorging a delicacy turned to glut,
Making memories of forced generosity,
Gluttons of fruit, victims of parsimony.

My mother knew what was coming:
The cramps we kids would have
From smuggling peaches
In stretched bellies
Into Canada.
1968 or '74. One of two vacations to Banff, Canada....
Unpolished Ink Sep 2023
a taste of peaches
grown upon a wall
through glowing embers
love remembers
how sweet it was to fall
James Rives Apr 2023
I imagine sitting on a porch somewhere humid and calm,
a tall tree, full of hand fruits, providing shade to foot traffic.
In this imagining, the lemonade is almost too sweet but doesn't stick to the table when it dries, and the mesh lining of the patio denies mosquitos all entry.
Their buzzing is drowned by the sound of ice being crushed three or four times with margarita mix and my favorite sin. Here, life has halted so dearly in a way I've always wanted, and in this, there is peace.
My parents would have kept a container of peanuts nearby to have with their Pepsis for days like this--
days where sound and warmth and humidity mingle, and fanning yourself with an old church pamphlet was better than being
bored, comfortable, and air-conditioned.
I S A A C Jun 2022
always thought a man was what i needed
thought that there was reason
why, after how hard I tried
love kept declining, defying my expectations
moving in and out of happy places
but i found something
watered my seeds, watched them grow into trees
now i revel in the sweetness of its berries
i dont need a man, i dont even think i want one
art is my soulmate, time is no longer my weakness
bite into life’s big peaches
no need for men in my reach
art is my soulmate, my vibe is Venus
Unpolished Ink May 2022
Peaches at first bite
Soft skin yellow gold within
Summer on my chin
J Dec 2020
arms outstretched,
I reach for the stars
I was always told to want
only to find that I'm
tracing myself against
murky, illegal water
in pink nectar.
I'm too rough
nerves get the best and I
dip down ever so slightly
not bothering to take a breath.
as I slip under the fruity grip
the lake of liquid freedom
clouds my vision.
a calm, calloused hand
hardened from time
from life
from love
cups my cheeks and
breathes into me
with her
petal lips
sticky against mine
a reminder.
I float back up
before I get a good taste
I twist and turn against the current
against the surface
Solidago and Indian Mallow
smeared across the sky
reflecting against me
until I'm nothing
but the fuzz
of a peach
i love when women
Carl Miller Aug 2020
Nothing warms My heart more than a summer peach
Sweeter than honey and softer than cashmere
Summer sunflowers to brighten up the old oak shade
Tranquil drawl in a sing-song voice, a lullaby to my ear
You know You love someone when it makes Your heart happy to write a poem about them. I hope You enjoy this one as much as I do.
Tenant Aug 2020
Kingdom- Plantae
Symbolism-softness, tenderness, but grounding in reality- foreboding my fantasy.

Used in prose:  peaches, with her plumpness, with her skin pressed against mine, seperated only by my budding insecurity. When will you go, will I be fine?
    If you are a peach, dangling from a tree, and I am only, A flower or the leaves. When will you drop? When will you plummet and with it, I wither and decay.
   If only I were a willow tree, no ornament linked, or if you could be plucked early, before sour becomes sweet?
kier Apr 2020
multiple weighty peach trees
outlined grief's path
lanceolate, broad, and pinnately veined
leaves cornered my view
of the clashing realities between faint rays
and the celestial dome

my sweet cries and pleads set into the sky
the atmospheric refraction
distorts all that is left of her being
an astronomical twilight will pass
and the dusk will swallow her wavelength

wandering into a new medium
surpassing the earth
and as the sweet color of peaches decomposes
becoming simple matter over time
her sun has set and mine will follow shortly
i dislike the ending line

i've never experienced death, but it certainly feels like your world is ending. i wanted to convey death in a different way and I like sunsets and peaches
so here we have this poem
I do rather like it, but it's not perfect :)
Next page