'The Strawberry Season'
I'm collecting jam jars
And have you seen the price of them
They'll be the holy holders
Of the jam
I'm going to make
This is what it takes
To what you become
Cutting out recipes
To fill fusty drawers
A granny that bakes
Where's she gone
That dancing queen
That sassy wench
Is now compressed
By time
Filtered into jam jars
Sitting on shelves
Waiting with hope
For the strawberry season
The quiet side of Mary Cecil.
Don't make her snarl!
Reminded me of my partner driving about 50 miles south in May one year and picking strawberries from the tail end of the spring crop here. And the time when my grandparents raised strawberries from spring to fall by planting four different varieties in their sandy soil in Western Wisconsin.
Ron