Another foodie poem.
This one came to me as I sat, pondering improvised poetry, and imagining what my twisted mind would come up with, were I thrown the word “banana”.
This is the result. Slightly tidied from the original that ran through my head.
And in case you were wondering, there are often bananas in my freezer. So you won’t die without having that piece of riveting knowledge!
The day he left, she bought bananas.
Beautiful, ripe, sweet fruit.
He didn’t even eat one. Just grabbed his bags.
Said “Sorry. It’s for the best”.
They sat in the bowl, slowly turning brown.
Rotting from the inside.
Yet something in her heart eschewed the waste.
So she put them in the freezer.
Next to her frozen peas, and her frozen needs.
They sat in the freezer, cryogenically suspended.
Neither dying nor growing.
She woke up one day, feeling something.
An urge to bake. She grabbed Nigella,
and put the fruit out to thaw.
They sat on the sink, rapidly softening,
as she caught herself humming along to the radio.
She baked a fine cake; make a fresh pot of Darjeeling,
Invited a friend over to share.
They sat in the gentle breeze, biting into warm sweetness,
sipping and chatting, and thinking,
how pleasant life was.