Slowly, move out to the road.
Blackberries hang thick, juicy,
A bumper crop. I'm picking,
And ripe fruit falls easy, slips
Right through my fingers, and
Into the bracken and nettles
Under my bowl. A bumper harvest.
I bring the bowl home. Add
Four plums from the tree
(all that's left by the birds).
Four apples. All together in a pan,
With two spoons of sugar.
Bring to the boil.
Simmer a while.
Nature's bounty, in a bowl.