Wild Strawberries

 

I know where some strawberries grow

As big as teacups, don’t you know.

But I’m not telling you.

 

I’ve watched them there when they grew

From small white stars, don’t you know.

Listen- what I’m telling you.

 

I’ll take the dog down, now they’ve grown,

He’ll bark and bark and he won’t moan.

But I’m not taking you.

 

They are red and sweet and fully ripe

Just ready for a thief to swipe.

So I’m not taking you.

 

They’re mine, all mine. I’ve watched them grow

As big as saucers, don’t you know.

None of them for you.

 

They are red and sweet and hanging thick

Just waiting there for me to pick.

No, I’m not taking you.

 

They’re mine, all mine. I’ve watched them grow

As big as plates now, don’t you know.

So I’m going down without you.

 

There, there, there they are, as red as red,

Just bursting from their shady bed.

Mine all mine, don’t you know.

 

I’ve eaten tons but still they glow

All red as red, don’t you know.

But I’m not sharing them with you.

 

They’re mine all mine. The red river flows

All down my hands, bare feet and toes,

Shoulders, face and arms and nose.

 

Rubbed in my hair and down my chin

Strawberry juice has burned my skin

In summer’s secret sin.

 

Next - comes the fun, now don’t you know.

‘Cause here is where the cow paths go.

Along the fence in a long, long row

 

Cow pats baking in the sun - I step in each -one by one.

Green juices bathe my strawberry toes,

As cow perfume gets up my nose.

 

I know where some strawberries grew.

Next year maybe I’ll take you.

                        — Vera Rockwell Coghill