[827] Strawberries

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air

in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

	-- Edwin Morgan

Sumer is icumen in, which means (in England, at least) Wimbledon, Ascot and
the Ashes. Oh, and strawberries in cream - hence today's choice of poem.

Truth to tell, though, the strawberries of the title are rather incidental
to the poem, which is mostly about love, and memory, and experience. No,
wait, I take that back: the strawberries may be incidental, but that's
entirely the point - the poem is about incidents, about the million and one
little things that make life worth living. The events described may be just
one story out of many, but they're no less real and no less important for
that.

thomas.

[Minstrel Links]

The magic of the ordinary is a theme which runs through much of Edwin
Morgan's work; see, for instance, his justly celebrated "The Unspoken",
Minstrels Poem #147. See also Seamus Heaney's "Song", Minstrels Poem #61.

Morgan's poetry also has a strong undercurrent of humour; see Minstrels
Poem #215, "The Loch Ness Monster's Song", and Minstrels Poem #304, "The
Subway Piranhas". I find his playfulness a welcome relief in an age
where poets often take themselves all too seriously.

Finally, while we're on the subject of berries, see William Carlos Williams'
equally evocative slice-of-life, "This Is Just To Say", Minstrels Poem #274.

From: wirschnc@

This is a love poem in disguise.  The subject in the poem 
isn't the girl he 'loves' or even the moment they shared, 
it's centered around his idea of loving her.  "Let me love 
you" is almost a demand not a mutual feeling b/w the two.  
He lusts selfishly over a woman that he describes not at 
all.  This makes her interchangeable to become any woman 
that he wishes, be it lover, wife or just throw away fling 
and thats not really very romantic or personal simply 
selfish.

Nikki

From: L.Crecy@  Mon Sep 22 09:34:27 2003

From: "Alex Bueno-Edwards" <abueno@>

But love is love right, I mean "lean back let me love you" who doesn't want
to hear the ultimate lovemaking statement

From: Nancy Wood <nancy@>

This is certainly a poem about love, but also about death and love's  
valiance in the certain face of death.  Not hurrying this feast  
refers not only to not hurrying the eating of strawberries before the  
feast of love to come, but also not hurrying life away before death.   
The feast to come is us, you know, we will be death's feast, and the  
feast of worms.  See Shakespeare in Mercutio's speech.  The empty  
plates that lie on the stone together with their two forks crossed  
are like two effigy tombs lying side by side on the stone together  
with their arms crossed.

He's done something wonderful here: using the ordinary, he's touched  
the infinite.

Nancy