(Poem #827) Strawberries
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
Sumer is icumen in, which means (in England, at least) Wimbledon, Ascot and the Ashes. Oh, and strawberries in cream - hence today's choice of poem. Truth to tell, though, the strawberries of the title are rather incidental to the poem, which is mostly about love, and memory, and experience. No, wait, I take that back: the strawberries may be incidental, but that's entirely the point - the poem is about incidents, about the million and one little things that make life worth living. The events described may be just one story out of many, but they're no less real and no less important for that. thomas. [Minstrel Links] The magic of the ordinary is a theme which runs through much of Edwin Morgan's work; see, for instance, his justly celebrated "The Unspoken", Minstrels Poem #147. See also Seamus Heaney's "Song", Minstrels Poem #61. Morgan's poetry also has a strong undercurrent of humour; see Minstrels Poem #215, "The Loch Ness Monster's Song", and Minstrels Poem #304, "The Subway Piranhas". I find his playfulness a welcome relief in an age where poets often take themselves all too seriously. Finally, while we're on the subject of berries, see William Carlos Williams' equally evocative slice-of-life, "This Is Just To Say", Minstrels Poem #274.