| Georgia |
Posted - Aug 21 2006 : 10:06:47 AM
I cut this poem out of the paper years ago and I love to read it this time of year. It always gives me a laugh
Tomatoes on my windowsill
by Robin Benzle
Tomatoes on my window sill,
Lined up like happy soldiers,
From pale green as key lime pie
To red as sunburned shoulders.
They seem to smile at the sun,
While they patiently a-riped.
And when I do my kitchen chores,
I smile back, enlightened.
One by one I take them down
From their nest upon the sill,
And add then to a salad or,
Perhaps a sauce with dill.
Then to my garden I return
To pluck another load,
And tenderly I line them up
On that shelf in my abode.
No sooner do I get them shelved,
Than my garden calls me back.
They're ripening all at once, I think,
As I stuff them in the sack.
So I give them to my neighbors and
I give them to my friends.
I give them to my enemies,
Just to make amends.
Soon, I note they're turning red
So fast it makes me ill.
From off the vine, they drop like flies.
My plot look like road kill.
Tomatoes on my windowsill
All rotting in a row.
I never thought I'd say this but,
"Where the hell's the snow?"
dreamer |
