Of Mangos
Written by on in Vindaloo.


The lush-ripe fruit
Flower gone to seed
Would have me eat her
Peeling back the leather skin
Avoiding those too-tender spots
Calling to me from her stall
I pick her up in fondest hope
Sometimes it's a rare treat
Perhaps most precious of them all
Feeling sticky juices spread
So sweet my mouth explodes
Wondering what else merits effort
Overpowering tropical scent
One could revel in all day
Sometimes though it's not so sweet
Hints of iron in the taste
Dry and hard unyielding flesh
With strings stuck in the teeth
Still I remember perfect flavours
And wanting not to waste I eat
Thinking maybe next time
She'll be ready-ripe
Maybe next time again
She will be a joy to eat

Comments

  1. Honey

    Honey on 01/24/2006 6:01 p.m. #


    <br />
    The Tree Of Life<br />
    <br />
    What a fantastic playground is the old mango tree<br />
    Thick low lying branches support the wooden platform<br />
    As it sits nestled cozily amidst the dark green canopy<br />
    <br />
    Children treat lucky dollies to extravagant picnic parties<br />
    Practise parenting skills and take visitors for tea<br />
    When the platform is a playhouse in the old mango tree<br />
    <br />
    Pretty little princesses in pink tulle dresses <br />
    Climb the winding wooden staircase into the castle tower<br />
    To pick from crowned tresses, spent twigs of mango flower<br />
    <br />
    Pirates climb the barked mast to survey nearby anchored trees<br />
    And duel opposing pirates with nailed wooden swords<br />
    Exclaiming many ‘Ahoy, me hearties’ and other cocknied words<br />
    <br />
    Sometimes vivacious tree play turns into outright war<br />
    As soldiers secure up the fort to keep princesses locked out<br />
    When gender balance affords them a greater share of clout<br />
    <br />
    Other days branches bear a hospital, of many a medical miracle<br />
    Performed by nurses in white aprons with red crosses and red capes<br />
    As the tree delivers casualties to jungle swinging apes<br />
    <br />
    The hideout gives protection from those who’d spoil the fun<br />
    As long as they keep hidden clear of mums searching eye<br />
    There’ll be no extra Saturday chores to elsewhere occupy <br />
    <br />
    The old grey weather worn platform still stands firm in the tree<br />
    Faithful haven to children over years so vibrant and so many<br />
    And now held as a perfect dream in delightful childhood memory<br />
    <br />
    As I stand here, its view spectacular through filtered golden light <br />
    Contrasted against the afternoon’s grey-black building storm<br />
    I’m reminded of the menace that plagued many a tree house campout night <br />
    The curse of all good paradise dwelling Aussies<br />
    The wet season’s nasty mango tree dwelling mozzies<br />
    <br />
    Slap!<br />

  2. Honey

    Honey on 01/26/2006 8:06 p.m. #


    <br />
    A Pleasant Curiosity<br />
    <br />
    Hey Mikey, you would not guess<br />
    Yesterday while I was out<br />
    I had the opportunity to delve <br />
    Deep into someone else’s fridge<br />
    You must know what I found<br />
    Burried amongst the fruit<br />
    A mango of wizen skin<br />
    Covered in pits with black therein<br />
    I don’t mean the sort that’s mummified<br />
    From lost down behind the crisper draw<br />
    It’s age must be from store 3 weeks<br />
    Or maybe a little more<br />
    But defiantly the kind <br />
    You’d throw out on first sight<br />
    With not a hint to guilt so slight<br />
    <br />
    I didn’t dare to touch at first<br />
    And moved along to something else<br />
    But as I busied myself about<br />
    This mango pursued some small doubt<br />
    That I’d judged this fruit without test<br />
    And that my curiosity should discover her best<br />
    Holding no real hope, wishing only to dispel<br />
    This voice that would not let the mango lie<br />
    While her sister had been vilified<br />
    <br />
    I took her out, poor old dear<br />
    And sliced into her skin<br />
    I was surprised that what I found<br />
    Not close to what I’d feared<br />
    Inside the appearance of her flesh<br />
    Was that of a ready-ripe perfect fresh<br />
    I now had no hesitation to taste<br />
    And am very glad to report<br />
    Her best was both smooth-soft and robust<br />
    With none of the expected mush<br />
    And not a string to be found <br />
    Those all dissolved with age<br />
    <br />
    I offered to share with those around<br />
    But my generosity was met with disdain<br />
    Their response I found not to their shame<br />
    They had seen her hideous skin<br />
    I’d felt myself their disgust<br />
    So had no place to admonish with blame<br />
    And gladly finished her off with lust<br />
    <br />
    The moral here of course we all know<br />
    But I’ll add onto the page for show<br />
    Don’t judge a mango on appearance of skin<br />
    Lest be lost to you her beauty within<br />
    <br />
    And you'd better believe this assurance I offer<br />
    My curiosity won’t be extended farther<br />
    To any old pitted wizen banana<br />
    <br />
    <br />
    i'm sorry i posted so much. we had a public holiday here so i took an extra long weekend...to play :)...gone swimming...<br />

  3. Mike Fletcher

    Mike Fletcher on 01/26/2006 11:20 p.m. #


    You think me yet so shallow<br />
    Perhaps you have the tune<br />
    I like the look of younger suit<br />
    But I prefer to dine<br />
    On full-ripe fruit<br />
    A mango is no avocado<br />
    Which rots within a week<br />
    Good fruits age with grace<br />
    Losing iron texture<br />
    Gaining subtle compound taste<br />
    I'll not throw away a mango<br />
    Because her skin is creased

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