I am Saffron.
Late bloomer: October.
Ironic...isn't it?
I open my petals on the same day
I opened my mouth to you.
I leave a bitter taste.
My heart is Eastern:
brought to you by caravan.
Spice, perfume, divine offering.
Sacrifice so sweetly burned...
Aphrodisiac: created to make your nights more pleasurable.
And yet sterile...
Incapable of producing seed.
"Reproduction may require assistance."
Love or lust,
I am intoxicating.
I am Saffron.
Author notes
Matt: don't take offense. I just wanted to know what my name meant. So I looked it up. I hope you like this one. Its for you.
A contest entry
- Your Favorite Work? by RedAquarius.
550 points, ended January 27, 2009, 35 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Before I read your notes I was thinking this is a bit like reading a defintion or an wikipedia entry, and then I saw your notes. I think it could be loosened up more, to not feel so factual. I do like the idea of a heart being delivered by caravan.
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Haha, I was quite aware of the properties of saffron when I picked the name. I saw it on the spice tour when I was in Tanzania. Incidentally, it is only cultivated saffron, C. sativus, which originated from the Cretian C. cartwrightianus, that is sterile. There are wild varieties of saffron that are quite able to reproduce themselves. Though I'm not sure if these wild varieties would have quite the same properties as the cultivated variety...
I like the poem a lot, especially the connection to saffron's properties as a late bloomer. Jolly good write.
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