Summer's Fruit

A poem about the greatest fruit of summer.

Summer's Fruit

When snow has fallen, 'cross the glen
with apples piled in the pen
It's good to sit about the fire
and on this fruit,to quench the mire:

Of parties gay, and splashing spray
on rosy cheeks and kids at play.
Evening walks along the beaches
sipping drinks of rum and peaches.

Whilst the cold, relentless, settles
fill your mind with rolling meadows,
summer sun warm at you back
with wine and blanket in your sack.

Hearing logs begin to crackle,
fondly reminisce on tackle.
Loons' sweet song upon the lake
and fish-less hooks with dreams as bait.

So let the frosty wind be foul
all wrapped up in your cozy cowl;
warmed inside not by your vest, 
but by the fruit of Summer's best.