Queen of the Great Annual Pomegranate Harvest
Fall just before
the witch and ghost time
my pomegranates ripen.
Defining red
and full of seeds,
long a metaphor of fertility
for Hebrews and Greeks.
For Solomon a reminder of youthful breasts
and luscious living.
For me an excuse
for the Annual Fall Pomegranate Harvest.
Bumper crops seem right
for a fertility symbol.
Mow the lawn
to emerald green,
perfect matting for the perfect red.
Release the hoard of pickers
to rescue the burdened limbs.
Pile high the fruit
to build the throne.
Choose the Queen of the
Pomegranate Harvest
from the children
of the fruit.
Insure a smile for the
sexy, happy fruit.
The Queen becomes immortalized
in ten thousand photos.
Her reign begins with a feast
she has no teeth to eat.
Each ripe fruit becomes
a great healing nectar
when given a suggestive squeeze.
The reward for a year of care
a jar of clear Ruby
for my toast.
In the winter a promise of another
Annual Pomegranate Harvest
and another Queen.
Doug Minnis
January 2010