by Anna Marco
Aunt Eleanor had a lemon tree In her backyard Standing…for a million years A genus Ponderosa Citrus Birthing fruit the size of Texas We compare our heads To those fat orbs Rub our noses on the rind Get heady with the scent Grab those pseudo soccer balls And pack ‘em into bags Race home, race home To squeeze the Sun For lemonade without sugar Those lemons Her personality Were the perfect match Both bigger than life Exceptional, Sheltering Nourishing, Rooted Fun, Tangy Made you smile I loved her Eleanor is that tree Tart yet sweet She was lemonade that didn’t need sugar © 2014 Anna Marco Winner LAVC Poetry Award 2014
Anna Marco was born into theatrical heritage, gifted in creative writing and majored in Media. Her professional writing career spans 30 years. She is an internationally published author to 6 books and 800 magazine articles. She won the Los Angeles Valley College Poetry Contest for “The Lemon Tree.”
Love this poem. I have had it on my desk top for years. A tree and it’s lemons immortalized as the mortal aunt with a love poem.
Anna, what a lovely poem. Made my mouth water as I smelled and almost tasted those lemons. Loved the comparison between your aunt and the tree. Thank you. xoA <3