Lemons

Basking in your orchard
admiring your yellow
a song says your tree is very pretty
but you are bitter and impossible to eat.

Cheesecake says ‘no,
you make me stand out with
your moreish zing of bitter.
We are the perfect marriage of opposites.’

I have great expectations of what I could do with you
if I was given you on
an episode of Master Chef
but is this dangerous?
There may be things in the mix of the secret box
you should never be combined with.

I paint you with blue plates
on a French cloth
into patterns on wall paper
with me dreaming in your orchards.

I write you into a story
of biscuits and blankets for
you are the thread of love in
a starry, starry lemon blanket.

To the lost friend who never recovers
a bitter heart is
senseless lost expectation
impossible to take.

To the writer you are manna
melancholy that inspires songs
of lost love
bittersweet.

(c) June Perkins

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