Nature / Rhythmic Stories May 19, 2021

Strawberries

There is no match

To the strawberry patch

The sweet smell of a strawberry 

Much more than an apple or cherry 

Mama’s famous jams or jelly

Mom’s preserves will fill my belly

Picking strawberries as I sit in the row

Scooting back and forth on my bottom as I go

Looking at little runners growing here and there

Growing as a family making strawberries galore 

Sweet orbs of red with an unmistakable taste

Mama cooks them in her pots never any waste

Every year towards the end of spring

Canning strawberries were my favorite thing

In the cold of winter, we would pull out little jars

Filled with strawberry preserves best by far

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