Ode to the quince

The quince is the electric yellow of a tennis ball one whacks.
The quince is the ugly child that comes later than expected.
The quince is a freak of nature, the bumper crop no one knows what to do with. One senses that they are nonetheless in possession of a goldmine.
The quince’s homeliness moves me to hold beauty pageants. This year’s winner is the one just out of reach I stretched for and found fetching.

and the winner is…...

and the winner is……

Advertisements

One thought on “Ode to the quince

Art is ephemeral; so add to the pot...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s