Kenneth, born and raised in the South, resides in Hamilton, Alabama. He enjoys sharing his unique perspectives on life through his writing.
Lemon, poor little lemon . . .
Sweet, sour, dour, taste of power
Watching, waiting, drink to be made
Sipping, dripping, lemon, poor lemon,
Sitting alone in your lonely tower.
Lemon, poor little lemon, forsaken, sad . . .
No fruit, vegetable or meat alone
Took you in, cursed, abused you cos' you were bad.
Yet, you loved the pain, so much you groaned.
Dark floor, cabinet cold, lemon stands shy
Loving, wishing, you were bread or rye.
Lemon, poor little lemon, may you ne'er rot
Wash your peeling, stop kneeling to your sky.
Wake up, lemon, poor little lemon, and see
New life begin, new hands to touch
The next soul you shall see is only me.
I am but a servant, a nameless soul, and not your crutch.
This was a silly piece that came to me as my house
was being visited by relatives who are good as gold.
I envy them for that.
December 6, 2020___________________________________________
The URL That Goes With The Lemon Graphic in Hub.
© 2020 Kenneth Avery