I love my lemon tree. I may have mentioned in a previous post how the lemon tree was uncovered after many years of living in an overgrown back yard. Now it's the crown jewel of the yard (when the newly planted Dogwood is not in bloom stealing its thunder). I noticed this evening as the sun was setting through the yard that the lemon tree boasts promises of a plentiful crop . . . these gems were everywhere!
3 comments:
Lemon blossoms smell so good. I think everything benefits from fresh lemons.
Ode To The Lemon by Pablo Neruda
From blossoms
released
by the moonlight,
from an
aroma of exasperated
love,
steeped in fragrance,
yellowness
drifted from the lemon tree,
and from its planetarium
lemons descended to the earth.
Tender yield!
The coasts,
the markets glowed
with light, with
unrefined gold;
we opened
two halves
of a miracle,
congealed acid
trickled
from the hemispheres
of a star,
the most intense liqueur
of nature,
unique, vivid,
concentrated,
born of the cool, fresh
lemon,
of its fragrant house,
its acid, secret symmetry.
Knives
sliced a small
cathedral
in the lemon,
the concealed apse, opened,
revealed acid stained glass,
drops
oozed topaz,
altars,
cool architecture.
So, when you hold
the hemisphere
of a cut lemon
above your plate,
you spill
a universe of gold,
a
yellow goblet
of miracles,
a fragrant nipple
of the earth's breast,
a ray of light that was made fruit,
the minute fire of a planet.
"You spill a universe of gold" . . . I love it! Neruda is an interesting fella. I looked him up. Thank you for sharing.
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