A Poem To Celebrate Nectarines

 A chance conversation about eating healthy foods delivered me back to the bountiful garden my father created all those years ago, ensuring we ate well. Fruit and vegetables were plentiful and varied in our humble household. It was economically and gastronomically a sound investment. Garden to plate was seamless. Sometimes the fresh produce never made it to the plate. My favourite fruit trees in the mini orchard were the nectarines.  

That's where this juicy little poem finds its essential spark in a memory regained. A conversation delivered a moment in time, now captured in words. Nectarines are not in season at present, but they are front of mind for me at least. Anything can be the focus of a poem-even nectarines. Poet's respond.

A Morning Bounty Of Ripe Nectarines 

I heard the footsteps on the back veranda

Then I heard the fly screen door swing shut

Wrapped in the turned up hem of his old jumper

My father nursed a bounty of freshly picked nectarines

Plucked from the fruit trees

in our tiny garden orchard

He brings the garden with him

-Twigs crest his shoulders

-Leaves in his hair

And a faint scratch on his cheek

I pause the keen eating of my breakfast cereal

As he sets the ripe fruit down on the kitchen table

He tosses me a ripe and ready nectarine 

With skin of blood and gold

Before throwing me a knowing wink…

I head for school

Nectarine sweetness

Dribbling down my chin.

Alan j Wright

It is Poetry Friday and our host this time is Margaret Simon at Reflections On The Teche.

Margaret's post pays homage to a summer  coming to its inevitable end in the northern hemisphere. she shares a poem in praise of summer elements and experiences.