Granny’s overgrown raspberry bush lie
Next to the faded green garage.
The sprawling canes seemed
A writhing mass of snakes,
Poised to bite any who ventured near.
I would be sent into its midst,
Deliberately picking my way through the tangled branches
In search of its gleaming black gems.
“Sometimes,” Granny would tell me,
“To find the sweetest fruit,
You have to be willing to brave the thorns.”
5 comments:
I like it.
Oh, wow! So true and I was lost in the story. I picked blackberries for my grandmother and was terrified of snakes that liked the blackberries, too. It would take forever for the cuts and scrapes from the thorns to fade away. Grandma sure was happy though. Such a descriptive piece, Mary. Love it!
Charming!
Reminds me of my great-grandmother's grapes (I know, no thorns...)
Thanks for sharing this.
Can't help thinking - raspberries are always red. I'd not fancy a black one! Leave that to the blackberries...
Black raspberries are certainly much more rare than the red ones, something about a blight wiping out a lot of them years ago, but I've always found the black are so much sweeter than the red ones :)
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