Tutti-Frutti

A poem comparing a poet to a fruit

A small shop window caught my eye today,

Bright fruits of every colour on display,

A harvest hymn of hues, all gathered in,

As tempting as an evening lime and gin;

Yet, even though I could have fancied each

And every one, my favourite was the peach

Which made me think of you — the gentle way

You’d feel its felt-like flesh and then survey

Each detail of its pink, late summer haze

And call to mind your sunlit Surrey days.

Then, savouring that first delicious bite,

How glad you’d be and sad you’d be, delight

Tinged with regret, for though both sweet and tart

Its juice might taste, a stone lies at its heart.

Your fruit brought joy but touched on sorrow too,

Just like this peach, the essence, John, of you.