In Krause's fields the berries lie 'neath Fraser Valley's June-blue sky. They fantasize a fate of fame on platter for M'sieur, Madame: "Discriminating -- come and buy! "Or if you ring us round, a pie with glistening glaze to glorify we're fine with that, or set in flan," from Krause's fields. July sun swelters... "Hear… Continue reading Berry Season
Their luscious flesh is over-rated Dripping juices leave you sated But an hour -- then stale-dated Past the prime is garbage fated. Though my plumpness has caved in My form encased in wrinkled skin Still, concentrated flesh can win At sweetness over tree-branch kin. Young sisters ripen in the sun Flaunt roundness but to me… Continue reading Dehydrated
Violet Nesdoly 