In keeping with the peaches from yesterday, here's a poem that playfully delves into the rich succulence of language, using the fruit as a reference point. Delicious.
Peaches - Peter Davison
stretches of beach, sweet clinches,
breaches in walls, pleached branches;
britches hauled over haunches;
hunched leeches, wrenched teachers.
What English can do: ransack
the warmth that chuckles beneath
fuzzed surfaces, smooth velvet
richness, plashy juices.
I beseech you, peach,
clench me into the sweetness
of your reaches.
