Lemons

• Freya Hill, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2011

They sting my tongue these lemons do
Their bumpy hide and their sunny hue
The acid sprays upon my flesh
Segments encased in an edible mesh
Their oval shape is long yet round
The ends are knobbly, twisted and bound
Their leaves are furry with a pointy lean
Over the side, the skin vivid green.
But behind the sour, there’s a sweeter shade,
Otherwise how would we make lemonade?