Driving into my neighborhood last evening, I noticed that a local had neatly planted and staked about a dozen tomato plants. That's what prompted the re-posting of this delightful ode.
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and might
My palate can reach,
when remembering out of sight
Your peak month of August, when you bear fruits of juicy Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most urgent need for a BLT, by sun or moon-light.
I love thee with abandon, as Venus might her Mars or Vulcan
I love thee purely, as surely as the summer wanes
I love thee with the passion of my appetite
Above all fruits, and with my childhood's eye of Jersey tomatoes
As if they were falling from the sky.
I love thee with a hunger I seemed to lose
With my lost innocence (and the icky mealy tomatoes of January)! I love thee with the smell,
Unlike no other in the garden, and your vine-ripened sweetness
That bring me smiles, tears, only at this time of year! -- and if the farmer's choose
I shall but love thee better after many bowls of gazpacho.
I'm not much of a gardener. I like to think I could, if need be. In the meantime, I'll praise the fruits of others' labor.
Photo Credit:
Myself - July 2010
Fruit compliments of a neighbor
Our tomatoes are in, but sometimes I feel like I'm going to die before I finally get to eat one. I can hardly wait -- fresh tomatoes are the best part of summer.
ReplyDeleteA poem of spring longing if there ever was one!
ReplyDelete