Creative writing | August 2019

It's been a long old time since I posted a poem on my blog, hasn't it? This was my last one, and it went down quite well - but since then I've been a bit stuck. However, I recently set up a creative writing group in my local area with my best friend Holly (you can follow us on Twitter and Instagram if you fancy it) and I've got some of my inspiration back. So I wrote this poem a week or so ago, and I'm really *really* proud of it. I hope you all love it as much as I do!

Photo by Joshua Ness.

Persian Plum

Your hand feels heavy in my own. A fox slinks

into a nearby hedge and lilac sky envelops

the trees that hang low around our 

shoulders, offering their fruits to us.

Peaches smell sweeter before you pick

them, you tell me, even with drops of rain 

on their skin and cells left behind by curious

insects looking for a new home. The breeze

whispers something inaudible and just 

out of reach. 

I wonder if, when night time rolls around

and the lilac gives way to something more

like indigo, you will realise. As the breeze wraps

you in its arms, will you see me as the

peach? Sweeter before you plucked me out 

of my old life, and into one where the stars have

human names and the raindrops are hot 

enough to burn your feelings into your flesh. Will

you ache with the knowledge that I bruise

too easily for you?

As the world wakes up, and the sky blushes with

the effort of it all, will you paint me? The shades

of orange and yellow, the warmth of my 

colours a shock to the system. Will you outline

every hair illuminated by the sunlight that 

tries so hard to melt razor sharp dew

before the children start to roam the streets? Or 

will you simply sink your teeth into 

my flesh, juice running down your chin,

and leave me to rot?

K.G