Monday, March 9, 2009

Let the storm wash the plates.

Today, the fantastic food-in-litblog Lashings and Lashings of Ginger Beer posted the poem "Strawberries" by Scottish poet Edwin Morgan. All my life, I have had a fondness for all things strawberry, and, since my trip there in 2007, a fondness for all things Scottish. Therefore, I am doubly delighted by this selection.

Not to mention, it's one of the hotter poems ever written about a food item. Tastefully hot, of course. Sensual, you might even say. Enjoy!

"Strawberries" by Edwin Morgan

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon

sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air

in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates


Lashings & Lashings of Ginger Beer said...

I like that polaroid. It reminds me of how strawberries should be - not shrinkwrapped to death or hiding other overripe, dead strawberries underneath them as so often the case in UK supermarkets...

Meg Blocker said...

Oh, thanks! It's one of my all-time favorite Greenmarket snaps. Most of our berries come in plastic, here, too - but not at the Greenmarket!

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