Fallen Fruit

Lying on green grasses,
Beneath the lush pear tree,
fruit had fallen to the ground,
No one who saw,save me.

Some had been there for a time,
And few were newly dropped.
I wondered, why the hungry
were not there, picking crop.

Times are different, that I've read.
My mother shared her stories.
You saved and used all you could,
For country, love and glory.

She taught me how to eat the fruit,
around the bruising, fallen.
Such succulence and sweetness,
You'd miss if pride was all, then,

So, I gathered all the pears,
Cleaned and savored sweetness.
Enjoyed the juicy memories.
And wished my Mom could see this.

Raine Les 9/27/2008

This is nice Sadie..

That was beautiful. The sweetness of memory, with a little bit of a chiding towards my generation. (Though right now, there's no way I'd waste any food. Especially free food)

Great write.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts..it is not any one generation..it is really complacency..something that i battle as circumstances in my life are heavy and loom..

as always...nicely done.