Thu, 01/13/2022 - 22:01 -- JPGeo

On a limestone laced hillside,

Under a sun burnished Umbrian sky;

Like resting peasants, the olives thrive.

Descendents of arboreal ancients,

Forty years yet still in their youth;

Stunted, gnarled, abundant with fruit.

Oh, what brines and savory oils

Come of thy verdant harvest.


Look down upon your sisters there

Spread out along the fence rows;

Another twisted, twining ancient grows.

Sun-sweetened grapes gathered on the vine,

Soon put to foot to make a drink devine.

Lo, from the garden of the gods,

There's no more truer pair than these

Bestowed upon mankind.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741