26 Comments

What a wonderful poem. As I listened and read, I was that seven year old, marveling at the sight and surprisingly delightful taste of each lovely pomegranate seed.

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Thank you so much, Ahalya!

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Astonishingly gorgeous, Elizabeth!

This brought back memories of my introduction to them (when a roommate in college brought some home from the grocery, and all I could do was stare in wonder at the process, the look, the taste).

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They're just so entirely unlikely, aren't they?! Thanks so much, Kristine -- for reading, and for sharing your intro memory. 💛🌿

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We should all have foods that are magical and invite enchantment. Thank you for sharing this experience and memory.

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Thank you for reading and commenting, Amy!

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It is magical. I won't even try to convince you otherwise. Here in Greece, we used to smash a pomegranate fruit on the floor in new year's day for good luck.

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Magic confirmed! Thanks, Fotini. 💛🌿

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Elizabeth, I'm smiled so at this recollection of one of God's crazier ideas for fruit. We lived in the San Joaquin valley for 18 years, and neighbors had a pomegranate tree at the back of their property. I remember many a summer day when my two kids would come home with scarlet chins and stained clothing after climbing in the tree and eating their bounty along with their friends, as if the fruit were an apple.

Your descriptions were absolutely spot on.

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What a wonderful memory, Jody. Thanks for sharing it, and I'm glad you liked the poem.

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This poem is magical. You capture essence of the pomegranate. They are more common now, at least here, but they are different from any other fruit. Your poem makes want to go out and get one now.

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I'm so glad the poem could channel some pomegranate-magic for you, LeeAnn!

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Wow. There is so much to love about this poem.... the leathered red-brown skin, plant-plastic membranes, nested cache of seeds, light-catching rubies & of course, blood. You have conjured some kind of magic with this one.

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The magic is all there in the fruit! I'm glad you found that the poem could conjure some of it. Thank you for reading, MK.

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And to think they grew in colonial gardens! Though I've not grown them, I understand they are as hardy as they are delicious. Magical for sure!

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Oh, to have a garden with a pomegranate tree...! Thanks so much for reading, Elizabeth.

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Vibrant poetry.

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Thank you, Stanley!

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This is such a perfect description of a pomegranate: “That’s part of what made the occasional pomegranate so magical. It was, in my life, such a completely out-of-context food; not something you ate because you were hungry or because you could get away with it or because someone said it was Good For You, but because it appeared like a gift from some otherworldly realm and demanded your full attention — and repaid that attention extravagantly.”

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Aren't they astonishing? Thank you for reading (and restacking), my friend. 💛🌿

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It’s a happy pleasure whenever you send out a new poem, Elizabeth.

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Wow! Good description. I feel that way about art. Although, how different is food from art anyway? I can't say that I'm always as passionate about food, although I DO love to create new foods, etc. It's just fun! Isn't it funny how the simple smell of some foods tend to bring you back?! The smell of cinnamon takes me back to childhood. My mother would cut off the extra pie crust, etc. and make little treats for us. She'd cover them in butter and cinnamon. Talk about YUMMY! I love those simple things...Anyway, great post!

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"How different is food from art anyway?" There's a topic for long thought and imagination! Thank you for that, Angela, and for reading (and sharing your yummy kitchen memory).

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Such a pinpoint accurate description from the senses. The faceted edges, like little rubies. We had pomegranate trees in an empty lot near us in Athens, I will never forget them. thanks

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Wes, I thought of you while I was putting this post together because I remembered you writing about those trees and their fruit. Thanks for reading.

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Hooray for pomegranate, the very best of all the granites.

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