Pursuing the poetical, paradoxical, metaphorical, lyrical, artistical, majestical, and mystical.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Blackberry Songs

I sing deep inside the briar patch
trying to lull the blood hungry
branches waiting to attack my
tender flesh.

I sing deep inside the briar patch
to trade pain for pleasure as ripe
berries roll off my thumb into
my waiting palm.

I sing deep inside the briar patch
with gratefulness to the one who
makes spring wet and cold for
sleepy, thirsty vines.

I sing deep inside the briar patch
as I marvel at bees and butterflies
still busy, finding ways to kiss
blossoms awake.

I sing deep inside the briar patch
to stifle the sting of painful pricks
and ignore the stains of the day's
sweet bounty.

I sing deep inside the briar patch
knowing summer is being stored away,
a frozen token of summer's sunshine
trapped inside.

5 comments:

Valerie Kamikubo said...

I love this one, Kathleen.

nance said...

what valerie said...

Maureen said...

This brings back wonderful memories of blackberry picking. We had so many bushes behind the house in which I grew up. The berries were big and delicious. They were worth the scratches.

Monica Sharman said...

Beautiful songs. I went blackberry and raspberry picking in Beaverton several years ago and remember the stains...

afinedayforanepiphany said...

Oh, Kathleen - love this. The repetition of such a lovely line, and the memory of picking berries. They don't grow here in MN, and that makes me terribly sad.