Anyway, then a few days ago I started scribbling in my poetry book about a woman who planted a pear tree as a child and grew up with it but when she then dies, the pear tree carries on living, carries on producing fruit but as she is no longer there, the fruit builds up and decays. For some reason, I feel quite strongly about that image.
Enough ramble now. I hope you like it. It's not one of my best but it's not one of my worst either.
However, I do think that the background could do with a little more. But nevermind.




