Love
Is a ripe plum
Growing on a purple tree.
Taste it once
And the spell of its enchantment
Will never let you be.
Love
Is a bright star
Glowing in far Southern skies.
Look too hard
And its burning flame
Will always hurt your eyes.
Love
Is a high mountain
Stark in a windy sky.
If you
Would never lose your breath
Do not climb too high.
Langston Hughes
Photo by Alistair
Photo by Alistair
7 comments:
Hari Om
Extending the Valentine theme - awww. You're a big softy I think - and to be commended for that! Have been dipping into various past posts and loving everything I see Alastair.
Love from Mumbai.
Hullo Yamini,
Aye - I'm getting sentimental in my old age for sure. Actally most of the poems tend to be about love {or death} I notice. Not something I consciously meant. I just publish what I like for the Sunday Post to keep things current on the blog when I'm too busy or lacking inspiration to post otherwise.
ps - got the other message too. Not to worry. I'm not precious about it.
Take care.
Valentine's day went well, I presume.
No honestly - this is nothing to do with Valentine's day. Truthfully? It's probably more to do with me forgetting it was posted after Valentine's day.
What can I say. Romance is forgotten, but not dead.
Alistair! A bit of a fruity, metaphorical start to this one, the scamp! It settled down, tho. Is that The Lovely G on the beach?
Indigo!
T'is indeed. {to both questions!}
Cheers.
I would love to know Hughes' experience behind this poem.
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