Strawberries Poem, by thewayiwrite, at My poetic side

He’d never much cared for strawberries

He didn’t like their sweetness

But that summer, her lips were so stained with their juices that they were all he tasted

And he’d never had a favourite fruit

But two summers later, another girl laughed with him and asked

‘If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?’

And he remembers how her hand traced the veins in his neck and made their way across his chest.

He remembers her soft breathing and limbs draped across his shoulders

‘Strawberries.’ He tells her.

‘I could live on nothing but strawberries.’

dusk arising April 14th, 2020 18:49
Lately the early strawberries here in UK come from a place where they manage to grow lovely looking fruit but completely devoid of the lovely strawberry sweetness.
Come to think of it, many ladies i have met are of the same ilk.

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