Anticipation
On an oak board the dappled apples sit
Their skins tight and composed
Juices secret
The honest knife lies cradled nearby
By warp and weft of yellow cloth
A weave of light against the blade
And here comes the opinionated cheese
Warm and willful, mottled and mouldy,
Emanating the air of ripened sage
Written for the word of the day, dappled, at Poem of the Day.
posted by MB at 12:11 PM
6 Comments:
if i could have an english apple straight from the rochard and a piece of sage derby from Neals's yard cheese shop every day for lunch I would be very content. lovely poem about one of my favourite things.
This seems somehow connected with the Whitman quote from your previous post. It invites--no demands--the reader to be more alive to the sensual details around us.
The apple's juices are secret, but the honest knife will make them spill. Really nice poem, moose--keep doing these word of the day poems, you're great at them.
There's the beginning of a story here. What happened next? ;-)
Karen M., I'm glad you've enjoyed the poems! Yes: secret, secrete, secern, all fascinatingly related. I answered your question about quoting, below.
Ruth, there is absolutely nothing like a good English cheese. Except a good French cheese. There are exceptions, but generallly American cheese is pathetic in comparison.
Amy, you got it. Thank you for your encouraging words. I really appreciate them.
Mary, ahhh, yes, the rest of the story! The poem does imply a sort of ellipses at the end, doesn't it. It'll have to wait for another day of composing, or maybe you can tell me what you think happens??
And not to leave out Patry — Thank you for your comment. That is perhaps one of the highest aims of my writing: to paint a shimmering, sensuous, alive picture with words. I rarely feel I achieve it. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished...
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