Our Tune.
The loud tick of my pine-clock slowed
as I sipped old wine,
remembering the fun of raiding hedgerows
and carrying home
bags which dripped spots of summer
from scarlet-ripe fruits
*
*
spurting long before being crushed into
juice as I gently,
like a good midwife, tried birthing with
coddle a new honey brew
and bottled in well-stirred batches
brown blackberry looseness
*
*
which labelled and dated I surveyed
very proudly before
storing my babies in cellared cool where
half forgotten they
stood dutifully burping before garishly
aging to fully mature.
*
*
Now with desperation on near horizon
I had to try one
when fermented chatter quieter grown
whispered its magic,
reviving past honey-mooned kisses
of happy recalled allure
*
*
as berry-stained hands linked mem'ry's
laughter while dipping
together we mixed crimson slurry in
sip-stolen unhurry
before time took you and left me with
only war-widowed gloom
*
*
yet now drinking this sparkling glass
of clear nectar I toast
in ready nostalgia sediment's potent
result while listening intently
to alchemy's music of wine-effluence
still striving to sing our tune.
- Author: Fay Slimm. ( Offline)
- Published: November 10th, 2020 03:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
- Users favorite of this poem: dusk arising, Poetic Dan, MendedFences27, Syd
Comments9
it would be all too easy to drink far too deeply .. and to quickly become absorbed and intoxicated by these most extraordinarily fine words my lady Fay ...... my newest favour write ..
Neville
Your benevolent comment on Our Tune humbles yet warms my heart dear friend - - - your words show how much you must relate to the memory of love found then lost in war - thank you for all your support of my efforts at poetry...............x.
'storing my babies in cellared cool where
half forgotten they
stood dutifully burping before garishly
aging to fully mature.'
garishly aging: now that's a keeper!
good write as always Fay, some wonderful phrasing - truly,
So pleased L.B, that you took to that phrasing of wine on the way to maturity - - home-made from picked hedgerow fruit it burbs for ages before any change.......... sincere thanks for your read and lovely comment on Our Tune.
No one but you Fay can romance the taste of home made wine with the nostalgia and reminiscence of yesterday with such allure and richness of depth.
This was more than an enjoyment to read, it thrilled me, absorbed me.
Into my favourites for sure.
Am more than delighted that you enjoyed the read of Out Tune dear friend - - having made quite a few different drinks from hedgerow fruit I know how awful they look and indeed sound until the magic takes place - and so grateful you think this deserves to go into your list of faves.
A fine write Fay.
I'm on the gin - from the Co-op! lol.
Glad you enjoyed the read dear Orchi.
Good to see you put this little tribute to Our Tune into you list of faves. Dan - thank you loads.
The taste and aroma of your fine wine delivers recollections of past love. I say fine wine for you have blended the nostalgic memories with eloquent phrases ,"dripped spots of Summer, alchemy's music, birthing with coddle, sip-stolen unhurry, honey-mooned kisses," to name a few. It's a full-bodied wine for sure, and I love it. A must have Fav. - Phil A.
Ooooh thank you dear Phil - - I feel speechless after reading your generous comment on the imagery I used in Our Tune --- and another big smile that you deemed the read worthy to be put in your fave. list too............ my warm appreciation - -- from Fay.
Hi Faye, awesome poem...excellent imagery. It reminds me of making elderberry wine with my parents. Good memories.
- Syd
The memories your poem evoked: Blackberrying as a kid; sampling homemade wine with a somewhat eccentric choice of ingredients produced by a relative no longer here (incidentally one of three bottles had exploded, leaving onlly two!) But your work had none of that violence: is fruit soaked and smooth.
Regards Dave
Such wonderful words from those childhood memories fermenting into the fine wine of you words Fay.
Andy
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