This post is all about watermelons and not watermelons. And fun. Enjoy!
Prompt 24: “Today’s prompt is a fairly simple one: to write about a particular fruit – your choice. But I’d like you to describe this fruit as closely as possible.”
I admit, I’m a bit poem-tired and tired in general. This is my second post today as I celebrated my friend’s birthday earlier. She is there and I’m here and it doesn’t seem anything will change soon.
I’m not tired of poems as such but of wrangling poems and other prompts into coherent wholes. Today I must leave Friendly Friday prompt until tomorrow and hope the prompt will fit it. Or I’ll make it fit. There is still Sunday but on Sundays there is Pic and a Word challenge… Or I can switch them around. See? Work!
And this post? This post is all about the watermelons.
Hey soldier, put down your gun,
let’s have some watermelon fun.
Oh, the things I could tell you about watermelons,
those giant juicy balls of
and fire water.
How various Slavic languages call it
How bad it would hurt
to get one dropped on the head.
How it tastes,
exactly like the burp it gives,
almost like cucumber
which I hate.
How my grandma
would buy one of 8, 9 or 10 kilos
at the market,
and dragged it up
to the fourth floor
without a lift.
Talking about watermelon fun.
How I used to spit
but now I swallow.
How they grow haphazardly in the fields,
which I’ve only seen here in Italy.
Slovenia is too cold for them
even though I grew a couple
in my own garden
from a previous poem.
They were tiny like a fist
and fully inedible.
How it feels when you eat too deeply
and reach the pale part.
How it drips.
But I won’t.
Here is a song instead, by the Serbian songstress Jelena mentioned above. Enjoy. And before you complain: the watermelons in the video were eaten by goats who carried the seeds to places where no watermelon had ever grown before. But after? It did.
Here is some fruit a quick search through my archives yielded. I could have sworn I didn’t have any watermelon.