Rotting Fruit

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nan shartel, June 6, 2012

  • Write a story for us

None

dreams ripen like fruit

left unpicked

they rot and die

REQUIEM

  • Write a story for us

Comments

Ruth Newell June 6, 2012 @ 10:07 a.m.

They do that, Nan. I really like this sweet poem!

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nan shartel June 6, 2012 @ 2:17 p.m.

yeppers they do...

dreams undone wilt in the sun

thx Ms Buzz Bucket!!

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nan shartel June 7, 2012 @ 5:41 p.m.

not really...i just tend to rhyme ...lolol......it was so perfect the way it was i decided not to add that little snippet

dreams undone wilt in the sun

crinkle into raisins

don't seem quite so amazin'

don't mellow into wine

or anything so fine

just my mind dancin' down alphabet street...lolol

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nan shartel June 8, 2012 @ 11:34 a.m.

i get that way quite often Ms Buzz Bucket...lol

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drgonzo619 June 6, 2012 @ 11:02 a.m.

This is true. Great poem.

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Lisa O June 7, 2012 @ 6:48 a.m.

You're an artist, Nan! I'll think of this poem every time I wander near the fruit bowl and fuzzy mold assaults my eyes.

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nan shartel June 7, 2012 @ 10:39 a.m.

lololol...then my job here is done chingobingo

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richzombie June 7, 2012 @ 2:31 p.m.

your poem kicks ass

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nan shartel June 7, 2012 @ 3:15 p.m.

but not ur cute ass RZ....wait...it is cute isn't it...lolol,..

thx poet

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jemsd June 7, 2012 @ 9:26 p.m.

I very much like this. Eleven words were all it took to remind us that we are all given a window in time. If the dream remains in our head and not acted upon, at some point it becomes just some faded lost desire on an old bucket list that noone will probably ever read. Perhaps it will fall and ferment in the summers sun and be consumed by two lucky souls who look forward to the approaching Fall with newfound hope. I suspect tho' that it will be, as you said, only fruit, and when fruit falls to the groundit does what unpicked fruit does, it simply rot and die :-(. I enjoyed your story, Great job!!!!

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nan shartel June 8, 2012 @ 11:28 a.m.

u perceived me nicely jemsd...good on ya...the biggest bucket on the list wont save the kind of dreams i speak of in this poem

however in real life there is a second harvest (4 people usually between 40 and 50 years old) when that fallen fruit (dreams) can be reclaimed and turned into something even finer because of the wisdom of the advancing years

yep i'm happy to say there is life after 50

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nan shartel June 8, 2012 @ 6:44 p.m.

yep...that winter individual will be dead soon

i'd rather melt then rot by golly!!!

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jemsd June 7, 2012 @ 9:27 p.m.

it simply rots and dies is what I meant to say.

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nan shartel June 8, 2012 @ 11:30 a.m.

gotcha jemsd....rotting depends on the person

None

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Tallsharon June 9, 2012 @ 8:41 a.m.

Do it now! If it doesn't work out do something else. There is always an alternative. Love it

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nan shartel June 9, 2012 @ 9:54 a.m.

hey that's what bucket lists are 4...so u'll be successful at some of them if not all of them....good positive energy TS.....

The Canadian Transcontinental Train trip is way up on the list

The Canadian Transcontinental Train trip is way up on the list

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