Late Harvest in Progress
I remember her tasting
of hand-worn
and warmed pennies ..
Looking like
late autumn sunshine
and carrying
the scent of old apples
all about her ..
Indeed, it seemed to me
then, she may
well have overwintered
and spoke not as
an old lover, but a friend ..
I also seem
to recall her once saying ..
Dear Neville,
don’t you ever dare fall
in love with me,
so of course, that’s exactly
what I then,
in my youth proceeded to do ..
-
Author:
Neville (
Offline) - Published: May 16th, 2026 06:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 39
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange, Katie B.
Offline)
Comments9
Ah, isn't that always the case in that set of circumstances. Young love can't be told what to do or how to feel 🕊️🙏
Absolutely, I found that out a very long time ago .. Thanks for the thumbs up arqios .. Neville 😎👍
What a lovely story telling set in musty images that seem faded as is the past. It is worn to fit and feels comfortable as an old friend framed in nostalgia of past bad choices that molded what we now are. Lovely my friend a fave
Cheers my friend .. Neville
A toast to you my friend
Beautifully written, your story captures a moment of vulnerability and self-awareness as you reflect on the consequences of falling in love despite warnings, thereby exploring the universal experience of love and memory.
I don't know how you do it but you hit the write spot every single time you pass by .. Bless you dear poet .. Neville 😎🌻👍
You're very welcome, Neville. I think it has to do with my upbringing; my grandparents were both MDs, and I used to ask billions of questions. How they knew what their patients were talking about, they said they listened very carefully - words speak louder than their expressions. And what they're trying to say is that some patients can't spit it out, but you need to listen. So, since I cannot see you or hear you talk, I can read your words, then process them and continue processing them. Being a hypersensitive person and an empath, it comes naturally for me. So, I was always told I spend more time diagnosing words than I do other things.
Neville, this has such a lovely mature tenderness to it. Memory, aging, friendship, attraction, nostalgia, and quiet regret all mingle together beneath those wonderfully textured sensory details. And that final turn lands with perfect human honesty. Beautiful piece, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
You have again made my day Tristan, ta muchly mate .. Neville 🖤🐧🐦⬛🐦⬛🐈⬛🌻🦋🖤🖤💛😎👍
Good write N.
Cheers Orchidee .. Neville
Young love can be so wonderful Neville but it may not always last.
Andy
that's why I used to go for the older ones .. I still probably would but there aint many of em around these days .. Neville
😂😂😂
You’ve got that old ache wrapped in autumn light here—memory that still smells of apples and bad decisions.
There’s a rough, honest tenderness in how youth hears a warning and walks straight into it anyway.
Many thanks Thomas .. so very much appreciated .. Neville
A fab muses poem recollection, memories, romantic sighs. Kudos fir this superb one!
Long time no see Poet Neville,
Plz also read and comment my newest poem too
How kind you are .. & yes, it seems an age .. Neville
adolescent love is so sweet - well described
Cheers Nafisa .. Neville
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