My thoughts droop like low
hanging fruit, pairs as sweet
as the ripe nectar inside.
Sway my mind i beg of you.
Words blister and rot in the sun,
oh how they ache for the shade of
your common-sense and calm.
I flock to your shade to quieten the
buzz amidst the haze - the scorch that
burns and flares the flesh inside.
You're the breeze that tempers the tempest,
the relief of a cool breeze in the sharpness
and sting of summer heat.
Sway my mind of only this, please.
It's the only thing i'd ever ask of you.
YOU ARE READING
Blackberry Thistles ✓
Poetrypoems as delicate as the fruit itself, and as thought-provoking as the sour aftertaste. All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2019 Kate H. > third place winner of the gem-mers awards poetry section 2020
