Watermelons Poem by Diana Rosser

Aberrant fruits across soft fields
silently wait for errant feet
reposing in their earthly beds
left unexploded in retreat
where watermelons once grew sweet.

Their candy flesh plumped in sunshine
honeyed beneath an open sky.
Smile bites that drip delicious
memories of warm days gone by -
No longer in their own fields lie

Striking giants from sweeter times
rise up at the boundary edge.
Bitter savage alien seeds
scatter the plaintive fields with dread
and wait as Hades for the dead.