Haw Jam
A Black hawthorn wet with Autunm rainHolds among its nasty thorns
The vibrant red of Haws ripe and sweet
After a hoar frost.
The apple's distant cousn shares the
Rose-hips taste and texture
Harvested for a jelly treasured
All the more for the effort of
Bringing it from its thorny bush
To a breakfast table.
Poetry by josephus

Read 768 times
Written on 2015-11-01 at 03:29




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