In Benidorm there are melons,
Whole donkey-carts full
Of innumerable melons,
Ovals and balls,
Bright green and thumpable
Laced over with stripes
Of turtle-dark green.
Chooose an egg-shape, a world-shape,
Bowl one homeward to taste
In the whitehot noon :
Cream-smooth honeydews,
Pink-pulped whoppers,
Bump-rinded cantaloupes
With orange cores.
Each wedge wears a studding
Of blanched seeds or black seeds
To strew like confetti
Under the feet of
This market of melon-eating
Fiesta-goers.
(Sylvia Plath)
More Poetry from Sylvia Plath:
- Cut (Sylvia Plath Poems)
- Death & Co. (Sylvia Plath Poems)
- The Arrival Of The Bee Box (Sylvia Plath Poems)
- The Rival (Sylvia Plath Poems)
- Mystic (Sylvia Plath Poems)
- Lyonnesse (Sylvia Plath Poems)