Guilty Pleasures

By luigi_pagano

Mon, 26 Apr 2021
  • 2071 reads
12 comments
 

Nowadays my life

consists of relaxation;
I'm happy to sit,
enjoy a pint
and read the papers.
 
I'm no longer the kid
of yesteryear,
unruly and full of capers
who had no fear
and who, with my mates,
created mayhem
in the village.
 
We knew of the Vikings
and of their pillage
but our only plunder
was to scrump apples
from the orchardist.
 
It was a petty crime
that we couldn't resist
for which we felt no guilt.
It gave us pleasure
to savour those delicious
cox's orange pippins.
 
Always on the lookout
for a hidden treasure
we found it in the cellar
of the parish priest.
 
Our evil design,
for which we felt no shame,
was to have a taste
of the communion wine.
Everything went fine
and for this infraction
we escaped all blame
 
 
 
© Luigi Pagano 2021
Certificate U
Poem
Mutevoli pensieri
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

We once moved to a house with a mini orchard in the back garden, and a council estate behind. My father was aware of the lurking boys, and shouted out, 'OK, come and get!'

You've lost a letter in your title. and you don't mean orchardist do you? Rhiannon

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Hi Rhiannon. Thanks very much for pointing out the missing letter in the title. As far as the noun 'orchardist' is concerned, yes  I meant to use it as it is a proper noun. The dictionary definition is: 
or·char·dist
  (ôr′chər-dĭst)
n.
One who owns or cultivates an orchard.

Originally I had 'orchard' but changed it not only to show I was stealing from the orchard's owner but also because it rhymed with 'resist' two lines on.

Luigi x

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

good gracious! I would never have guessed so erudite a poet was such a rascal :0)

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Boys will be boys, Di. smiley
 

Cheers, Luigi x

 

Submitted by Tom Brown on

Stolen fruit is sweetest .. . .. even if you just pretend it is stolen! Time for a midnight snack!

Keep well Luigi! Tom

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Thanks for your response, Tom. The forbidden  (or stolen) fruit always seems to taste sweeter.

You too keep well.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

I love this poem Luig, it reminded me of my own escapades. When I was about seven or eight we lived on the same road as a funeral home, at the back there was a high wall and we used to climb that wall and pick the apples. We never got into trouble and nobody stopped us, now I think about it, the owner was probably glad they were being enjoyed, and would have given them to us, but then it wouldn't have been the same as the adventure of climbing that wall.

Great childhood memories Luigi.

Jenny. xx

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

There is nothing that tastes sweeter than the forbidden fruit, Jenny.. wink

Nice hearing from you.

Luigi xx

 

Submitted by Tom Brown on

Guilty pleasures are secret pleasures .. . ..

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

You are not wrong there, Tom.

Cheers.

 

 

Submitted by airyfairy on

What a wonderful image of you and your friends scrumping the apples and then moving on to the communion wine! When I was a kid I used to nick cigarettes from the box my parents kept on a coffee table and my friends and I would climb up and hide in a big tree to smoke them. Dread to think what we might have done to the tree with the matches! 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Looking back, I am surprised at the things we got away with in childhood There are many more capers/incidents/events I could let out of the bag but, at the moment, the memory - conveniently – escapes me.

Kind regards, Luigi x