Here's the second installment of my poem Oranges for Three Loves (Part I is here). I'm trying to do a better job of balancing the flow, imagery and word play. I too often sacrifice on the first. I have an idea for another related drawing that I'll try to post before Part III.
II. Striped Dawning
Home on morn's edge, a first love he soon sights
her narrow white face with blush-dabbed features,
the tall swab of swirled scarlet hair atop,
a bobbing tongue that bounces into view
At striped dawning, he, perhaps too eager,
reaches into his bag with halting hand.
An under-ripe gift he blurts out to her,
offered wholly careless, green-tipped, unpeeled
She takes it, and rolls it in slender hands
thumbs inspecting it, a bit misshapen,
bumps and crevices around knobby stem...
no fruit for her, nose upturned, she walks on