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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=383750" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Wild Peaches</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the world turns completely upside down <br>You say we'll emigrate to the Eastern Shore <br>Aboard a river-boat from Baltimore; <br>We'll live among wild peach trees, miles from town, <br>You'll wear a coonskin cap, and I a gown <br>Homespun, dyed butternut's dark gold colour. <br>Lost, like your lotus-eating ancestor, <br>We'll swim in milk and honey till we drown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The winter will be short, the summer long, <br>The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot, <br>Tasting of cider and of scuppernong; <br>All seasons sweet, but autumn best of all. <br>The squirrels in their silver fur will fall <br>Like falling leaves, like fruit, before your shot.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">2</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The autumn frosts will lie upon the grass <br>Like bloom on grapes of purple-brown and gold. <br>The misted early mornings will be cold; <br>The little puddles will be roofed with glass. <br>The sun, which burns from copper into brass, <br>Melts these at noon, and makes the boys unfold <br>Their knitted mufflers; full as they can hold <br>Fat pockets dribble chestnuts as they pass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peaches grow wild, and pigs can live in clover; <br>A barrel of salted herrings lasts a year; <br>The spring begins before the winter's over. <br>By February you may find the skins <br>Of garter snakes and water moccasins <br>Dwindled and harsh, dead-white and cloudy-clear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">3</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When April pours the colours of a shell <br>Upon the hills, when every little creek <br>Is shot with silver from the Chesapeake <br>In shoals new-minted by the ocean swell, <br>When strawberries go begging, and the sleek <br>Blue plums lie open to the blackbird's beak, <br>We shall live well -- we shall live very well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The months between the cherries and the peaches <br>Are brimming cornucopias which spill <br>Fruits red and purple, sombre-bloomed and black; <br>Then, down rich fields and frosty river beaches <br>We'll trample bright persimmons, while you kill <br>Bronze partridge, speckled quail, and canvasback.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">4</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Down to the Puritan marrow of my bones <br>There's something in this richness that I hate. <br>I love the look, austere, immaculate, <br>Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotones. <br>There's something in my very blood that owns <br>Bare hills, cold silver on a sky of slate, <br>A thread of water, churned to milky spate <br>Streaming through slanted pastures fenced with stones.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I love those skies, thin blue or snowy gray, <br>Those fields sparse-planted, rendering meagre sheaves; <br>That spring, briefer than apple-blossom's breath, <br>Summer, so much too beautiful to stay, <br>Swift autumn, like a bonfire of leaves, <br>And sleepy winter, like the sleep of death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elinor+Morton+Wylie">Elinor Morton Wylie</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=383750" data-title="Wild Peaches de Elinor Morton Wylie" data-description="1

When the world turns completely upside down 
You say we'll emigrate to the Eastern Shore 
Aboard a river-boat from Baltimore; 
We'll live among wild peach trees, miles from town, 
You'll wear a coonskin cap, and I a gown 
Homespun, dyed buttern..."></div>
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