A poem in couplets
They say; when life gives you lemons, make lemonade,
I like their optimism; let’s put that in retrograde!
When life gives you vanilla, add lemons,
When everything is beige, go bronze!
Get some sun, top up your vitamin D,
Or, a squeeze of lemon, for your vitamin C!
When you’re feeling flat, and not your best,
Pick up a lemon, and add some zest!
Complimentary, or; just hard to be beaten,
Imagine it paired with the favourite dish that you’ve eaten,
Add it to sweetness, and you’ve got ‘tart’,
Sun drenched beverages, surely can’t be apart,
Refine richness with a squeeze of its juices,
Savour the sophisticated flavour it produces,
The waxy texture, knobbly, ran under fingers,
That smell it imparts, on the tips, where it lingers,
I adore the scent, alive through the skin,
And the Sicilian memories it evokes from within,
Taormina’s hilltop seascape, gossiping pink petals,
In the shadow of Etna, cameos set in precious metals,
To Syracuse, birthplace of Archimedes,
Ancient architecture kissed by Ionian breeze,
Bar Vitelli, Dad, a grappa, coming of age in the heat,
Where they filmed The Godfather, in the medieval street,
All the way to Naples, across the Tyrrhenian Sea,
Where Mum lapped up lemon sorbet, in Italy,
Blessed moments, when I close my eyes,
Breathe deep that zing, and let my dopamine rise,
I’m there, off of Rome’s Piazza del Popolo,
Finishing dinner with a shot of limoncello,
I feel happy – warm, young and rosy,
Good for winter too, when you want to feel cosy –
At Christmas, with a couple of lemons handy;
Syllabub! Curdled cream, juice, zest and a heap of brandy,
A palate cleanser, but lets not call it the end,
Because lemons promise to be a lifetime friend,
Unlike the pear, who’s easy to bruise,
Not our tough lemon; another reason to choose!
Unlike the banana, who cant get along with other fruits,
Lemons are sociable, can be kept where it suits!
Unlike the passion fruit, with a throwaway rind,
Zest, juice or pulp – use all parts you find!
Best of all, it grows wise as it ages,
One with the philosophers and the sages,
Mature – it’s skin may be hard, wrinkled and dried,
Just like us; the juices are still good inside.
Poem by © Darius the Mate
Written for the dVerse: Poetics.
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Playing with Words