By Kim Hansen
Oh blistered gem of delicate weight,
ruby red and alive.
Oh mandala of bumps,
perfectly replicating your patterns
right into my soul mouth.
You are moist and lovely.
The more imperfections you offer,
the better you smell;
your ripeness becomes you.
Even in your delicacy
you offer a small space.
Sometimes the empty place
holds the most flavor.
You circle round your secret compartment.
Your dance with the sun and soil
is medicine and nourishment and beauty.
Let me poke my tongue ever so gently into your center
and deliver you into me.
4 thoughts on “Raspberry”
Hey, I have somehow lost the avility to notified of these posts and only just now noticed you published my poem from another of you superb writing classes. Thank you, Laura. And thanks to Karen for posting to this recently so that it came up in my facebook feed.
Sorry about that! I thought I tagged you on Facebook when I shared the link there, but we know how reliable FB is these days!
Suggested reading…Meet me at the Mueseum. Ann Youngson. Wit reference to the metephor of the raspberry. Jean
Thanks for the suggestion!