Thursday, August 16, 2012

At the End of Summer

The sun is warm on my face
And my belly is full of ripe fruit.
If my eyes drift shut
And I murmur your name
As if in a dream
We can blame the cantaloupe.

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8 comments:

  1. Yes, let's blame the cantaloupe! Ha! Made me smile.

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  2. A good candidate, cantaloupe. Not my favorite among the fruit family!

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  3. Cute poem. But maybe that cantaloupe should get some credit---as an aphrodisiac.

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  6. I love cantaloupe and will never now think of it in the same way. Somehow, now it's better.

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