White Peaches
Driving to a Kansas orchard three times a week
My grandpa’s annual quest for perfect white peaches
Making sure to arrive when their ripeness did peak
Directly picked from trees, as far as his arm reaches
Ignoring the yellow ones, only whites for his platter
I said those aren’t white, they look kinda red to me
He said pay no attention, the outsides don’t matter
What’s on the inside that counts, soon you will see
He took out his knife and cut one open open for me
And darn if he wasn’t right, the insides were white
With just a tinge of red where the pit used to be
To my eyes those white peaches made quite a sight
Then he told me hold on, the best is yet to learn
I took a big bite and juice ran down my chin
With a flavor so sweet and a texture so firm
It tasted like heaven to me, so I bit it again
Let’s pick a bushel today, that should be enough
For grandma to make cobbler and us to just munch
Churning some ice cream to put on top of that stuff
We’ll also eat ‘em at breakfast and again at lunch
Grandpa’s love of white peaches he passed on to me
And as luck would have it, they’re in season now
Talking of white peaches makes me smile with glee
Off to the grocery I go, ‘cause I’m ready to chow
——
Linked to dVerse — Poetics: How to Cut a Pomegranate, where Kim is tantalizing us with fruit poems and challenges us to write one of our own.
I really love this- especially “the outsides don’t matter. What’s on the inside that counts, soon you will see.” I believe this applies to people in general too! 💝💝
I’m glad you caught that.
Delicious!
And this just feels like a good mantra for life:
“He said pay no attention, the outsides don’t matter
What’s on the inside that counts, soon you will see”
Yes, fruit mantra.
God bless our grandfathers. Being disabled, and having 9 grandchildren, I can’t play with them, or do things with them…a sad tale. White peaches are on a par with perfect pears.
What a lovely memory, Ron. Now I’m craving peaches (I won’t be too fussy if I can’t find white ones)
Never heard of a white-fleshed peach. Will need to look for them now. Sounds like worth the search. Such nice memory happy you shared it, Ron.
Produce Code 4401 at your local grocer
! 🙂
The only white peaches I’ve tried are the ‘donut’ variety, or ‘paraguayas’ as they’re called in Spain. They do have a special flavour but I’m not sure if it’s the same as the flavour you so deliciously describe here!
I believe they are different than donut peaches. Whites are sweeter than the yellow-fleshed ones.
I think I did try them in Spain actually: less tangy but deliciously sweet!
Peaches are special fruit and at the centre of one of my favourite children’s books – Holes. I’ve only ever eaten white peaches once or twice. I love the background story to your poem, the picking of peaches, which wouldn’t grow here in East Anglia, and reminded me that I’ve never seen them on trees. I also love the grandpa wisdom in the lines:
‘He said pay no attention, the outsides don’t matter
What’s on the inside that counts, soon you will see’
and the thought of homemade peach cobbler and ice cream made my mouth water – and I’ve only just had breakfast!
Made my mouth water too. I actually did go to the grocery store (like the last line says) and buy some after finishing this poem.
What a great quest. Lovely imagery.
This is the first time i learned that there are white peaches! thank you for this information. and you have a wise grandpa – He said pay no attention, the outsides don’t matter
What’s on the inside that counts, soon you will see.
He instilled me with many additional wise sayings.
This is a beautiful moment you have described with a grandpa, I loved reading it! I could taste the delicious peaches too! Well done! 🙂
Your poem is sheer rhyming delight! I don’t know that I’ve tasted a white peach … the hunt is on!
Now I am craving a white peach!