Array ( [sid] => 179963 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Blackberry Jam or Wine [time] => 2014-12-07 02:06:11 [hometext] => I was/am the medium for my wife on this one. [bodytext] =>

Oh my God,
I remember picking
blackberries in my youth,
and then we would bring them to my mom and dad;
we hoped she would make jam,
and hoped she would not make wine,
picking blackberries for my parents-
A sad and happy time.
Mostly she made jam:
I don't remember forty years ago
If we ate jam or they drank wine-
My father drank deep and we smeared
steep on bread and through it all
we connected through jam and wine-
either way we grew closer thanks to
plush and lush blackberries on the vine. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 248 [topic] => 23 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FamilyPoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Blackberry Jam or Wine


Blackberry Jam or Wine
Date: Sunday, 7th December 2014 @ 02:06:11 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Invierno


Oh my God,
I remember picking
blackberries in my youth,
and then we would bring them to my mom and dad;
we hoped she would make jam,
and hoped she would not make wine,
picking blackberries for my parents-
A sad and happy time.
Mostly she made jam:
I don't remember forty years ago
If we ate jam or they drank wine-
My father drank deep and we smeared
steep on bread and through it all
we connected through jam and wine-
either way we grew closer thanks to
plush and lush blackberries on the vine.

This poem is Copyright © Invierno


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