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a Fruit, a Gem & a Cove
In a cavernous space with lighting diffuse,
She, the fruit-smith, and I.
My joy was in browsing, not using, or having;
Holding the gem to the eye.
It was she that revealed the ripening-time,
She, in unlocking the trove,
Displayed the mute heart in all of its grace
Outshining the dim-lit cove.
Three days to ripe, and pliant by hand,
Or stony for five long weeks.
A fruit like a lime, though subtly striped,
In most artful wedges and peaks.
I retained the cream and scorned the chaff,
Gave the merchant not even a dime.
He scooped up the hard and unripe child,
Failed to return me my time.
He set down bunches of unfinished growth,
Unending that blurred my mind.
She faded from view as the burdenous berries
Stole my will now confined.
The sinister pome, nay, drupe, nay, citrus
Flashed with unbearable hues.
I felt myself fall in a florid array,
Knew I and the fruit were to fuse.
Thankfully, then, some skitt'ring within
Reminded my sorcerous chest:
"These fruits shall rot; I cannot be bought"
And I vanished with gentle behest.
Where went I then? How could I begin
To explain the glory of love?
And how could I bear to vanish from there:
Where gems shower down from above?
Poetry
Written by
on 6/7/18
.
Art by
DaisanART
.1 — "Crystal Cave" [cropped]
2 — "An Underdark Town"
3 — "Forest Magic"
.
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