Perfect Peach
Orange fruit, speckled
with a thousand tiny red spots,
ripened to perfection—plump and soft,
plush and slightly sweet
juice cool as a summer morning
slurping down your chin.
with a thousand tiny red spots,
ripened to perfection—plump and soft,
plush and slightly sweet
juice cool as a summer morning
slurping down your chin.
This poem is copyright (©) Ruth Healy 2024
About the Writer
Ruth Healy
Ruth was born in rural Pennsylvania where her backyard ran out into the fields and through the woods for miles. She had secret reading and writing spots underneath the trees, away from the hustle and bustle of four sisters. Ruth wrote mysteries based on her experiences with Nancy Drew, letters to pen pals from around the globe and wistful stories about growing up. More recently, after being introduced to poetry by Charles Causley, she has started writing children’s poetry.