When I was growing up, a large and very prolific lemon tree was the centrepiece of our back yard. In fact, a lot of my childhood photos seem to have that lemon tree in them. Lemon juice was used in cooking and baking, and for dressings, and in tea, both when well and unwell. Just the smell of lemon tea takes me back to being a child with a head cold.
Years later, in a different home, I inherited an old-fashioned lemon tree, the fruit of which was so sweet and juicy as to be able to be eaten raw – almost! To this day, my kitchen feels empty without lemons, and I guess it’s the same for many cooks. It’s hard to believe that in ancient times the lemon was largely ornamental.
The form of this poem is a trimeric. More of my ekphrastic poetry here. I have another poem based on a George Henry Hall work here.
Lemons
the smell of a lemon is the smell of being alive
all the words – zest, tang, tart, sweet, crisp, clean, fresh
each meal, I stand over the pot and squeeze in all these words
be alive, my loved ones, be alive
all the words – zest, tang, tart, sweet, crisp, clean, fresh
words my mother gave to me from a tree in her garden
her love for me wrapped in a yellow citrus skin
each meal, I stand over the pot and squeeze in all these words
and think of more – energize, rejuvenate, sharp, clear, cheer
after bitterness, there is optimism
be alive, my loved ones, be alive
our blood is juice, our heart is pulp, our skin is rind, our organs pith
we are hydration, ornament, scent, medicine, and nutrient
©elsp 2026
And here is the YouTube version:
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