Sarah Potter Writes

Pursued by the Muses of prose and poetry


Plump tomato

you remind me of Maisie

on a Sunday scrubbed clean

beneath a fresh bonnet

with shiny red cheeks

green eyes and lace frills,

smiling, basket-upon-arm.

Maisie loves the vicar

and brings him freshly grown tomatoes

which match her cheeks.

She smells of compost and lavender soap.

He asks her for lunch after church.

Their eyes meet over large tomatoes

eaten whole that squelch

as the juice runs down their chins.

She giggles into her lace handkerchief,

he wipes his chin on the tablecloth,

and over the crockery they kiss,

all tasting of fresh tomatoes.

She giggles some more.

He squeezes Maisie the plump tomato

and they disappear under the table

beneath newly pressed linen.

Maisie’s cheeks ripen until she shines

with the shiny red plumpness

of ready-to-eat fruit.

The vicar praises God for tomatoes

and descends upon Maisie for dessert.

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17 thoughts on “Tomato

  1. Terrific (esp for a tomato lover like me)!


  2. sandy on said:

    I love this, and your poem!


  3. ClownPonders on said:

    So a Tomato brought you inspiration today, that’s random haha! Brilliant piece, I really enjoyed it 🙂


    • Thanks. Really glad you enjoyed it 😀

      The poem came out of a game a group of us played one Sunday afternoon. It involved spontaneous writing exercises, with one of us at a time setting a subject and all of us having a go writing a poem or a piece of flash fiction in five minutes. The subject I chose was ‘Tomato’.


  4. Our tomato experience last summer was much as you describe, lol. Love your work!


  5. How naughty of you, Sarah! If he hadn’t been a Vicar, the poem would not have had the same dimension. Loved it!


  6. excellent. I may never think of tomatoes in the same way again!


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