Behold the Kiwi,
A curiously, mysterious fruit.
Its drab olive outside
Belies its vibrant inside.
If this were the roaring twenties,
The Kiwi would be a popular speakeasy: A
Non-descript dull exterior
With a wickedly wonderful interior.
This curious fruit does not need
A sly snake to promote it.
It is the party all attended
Yet, no one admits to it.
Hold one close to your ear
And you will hear
A sound so inviting
That even Odysseus
Would find it useless to resist it.
The Kiwi is the fruit that begs to be
Opened.
Its insides want to be
Out.
Pierce
this fruit’s soft, fuzzy flesh open and
You will reveal
A green so real
it cannot be imagined.
Bite
Into this fruit
And you will be seduced
By a taste so tart
You will declare …
Behold the Kiwi!
"Behold the Kiwi!" a poem by Trudge164 © 2010
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Comments
I'm not a poet,
And I show it,
And I know it.
You're a muse
don't confuse.
What yer doin'
aint refuse.
If ya choose
to refuse
yer muse
Ya LOOOOOOZZZZZEEEEEEE.
R
Irania, that was a-muse-ing. : )
Brianna, ty for the kind words.
Lunchlady 2, I'm glad that you are serving them at school.
littlewillie, and a shoe polish too.
Oryoki, okay.
Bonnie, klever
l'Heure Bleue, I wrote this and posted it last night. It's a Trudge Original. Sorry, to hear about your allergy.
Xavi para siempre...
They grow 'em up North.
Somethin' sexual about them things.
A little tangy, too.
Kris T Parker, Thank you.
Xeonlit, that about sums it up!
The Kiwi would be a popular speakeasy: A
Non-descript dull exterior
With a wickedly wonderful interior."
That you surely are.
for which I'm beat.
There isn't one line
I write that's fine.
Well now,
I know how.
Rated.