Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Open palm of your hand,
the fruit of a ripened plum pressed cool against your skin.
Placing the young flesh against your lips, with a sweet perfume scent.
A lovely summer afternoon spent loving you.
Short and sweet
toleomato Oct 2020
I had
The plum tree
In my backyard.

I often think
What if I were
A plum.

I could be at peace
And rot away
I had just been a plum.
Jonathan Moya Sep 2020
You worked hard for the plum,
to bite into the Mariposa
before the heat comes
and it rots.  

Its purple plumpness
pulsates with juice,
so dark and clear
through and through.

The comfort is not startling.
It’s the taste you know
from a thousand memories,

What takes you back
is the shock of seeing
your heart in your palm,
the taste of your blood rich
in this other thing.

Yes, it’s not what you hoped,
maybe more for such
a late summer surprise.

Yet, in the shrinking light you
don’t begrudge yourself
this small purple reward for
a lifetime of regrets and doubts,
unborn hopes and still-born pleasures.

This plum blossomed
despite you,
apart from you.

It reached you
skin sweating
ripe to be your miracle.

It’s not just sweet,
it’s sweetness,
full of the seasons
of its short life,
your everything- nothing joy.

Bite into it, and
you must bite into it,
taste its smallness
in your fullness.

Feel it run
down your cheek
overflowing your palm.

Feel it mesh with all
your runny happiness.
Leah Hilliges Sep 2020
It danced to different melodies
and hid behind my eyes--
When it tumbled out of my mouth,
The word tasted foreign,
Like a soft peach on a winters eve,
Or a sour plum on a hot summer day.
I long to taste a sugar plum off the ****** tree,
walk in the field of golden grass just to feel.
I want to feel the sugar plum tree, high at stake and bright with sweet bumble nests.
We all talk about apple trees, but why not the plum tree?
Gracefully swaying it's branches in the summers light.
I long to taste a sugar plum, laced in sweet white crystals.
The juice flows through our mouths, fresh, cold, and sweet.
Deep colors from it's roots to it's leaves, we have brown, light purple to dark purple, which we call plum, green delight how beautiful it is in my sight. I want a sugar plum, to bite into it's fruitful dismay and lay on natures green bed, so soft, so gentle. Stare into the clouds watching them gently float by, a cool breeze of sweet air swishes amongst my earthly face as i fall asleep under the sugar plum tree.
To express nature's beauty.
Cox Apr 2020
Get some sun,
Don’t be so glum.
Put a smile on that balm...
it's an *****
that we can do without
but most of us
have it still hanging about

were you to look
a bit left of the liver
you'd see this *****'s
plum red sliver

if it gets torn
much blood will spill
from its sack's  
gushing rill  

by golly Francis
verbalizes a lot
she's always
ranting on the spot

glean and keen
rhyme with it
that is a hint
to its kind of kit
ally maková Jun 2018
I am a plum—
      io sono la tua prugna
and I fit in your palm,
in its tender arch
      upturned, stately
and I curl in its pits
of lines that quake
with the warmth of my weight.

My flesh grazed by your teeth,
      a hymn that carries
across the gleaming sea
and intertwines with the tempest
that soaked your black curls
but not your mouth—
      your mouth dripping
with my plum juice.
Next page