The Fruit Shop Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Cross ribboned shoes a muslin gown	A
High waisted girdled with bright blue	B
A straw poke bonnet which hid the frown	A
She pluckered her little brows into	B
As she picked her dainty passage through	B
The dusty street Ah Mademoiselle	C
A dirty pathway we need rain	D
My poor fruits suffer and the shell	C
Of this nut's too big for its kernel lain	D
Here in the sun it has shrunk again	E
The baker down at the corner says	F
We need a battle to shake the clouds	G
But I am a man of peace my ways	H
Don't look to the killing of men in crowds	G
Poor fellows with guns and bayonets for shrouds	G
Pray Mademoiselle come out of the sun	I
Let me dust off that wicker chair It's cool	J
In here for the green leaves I have run	I
In a curtain over the door make a pool	J
Of shade You see the pears on that stool	J
The shadow keeps them plump and fair	K
Over the fruiterer's door the leaves	L
Held back the sun a greenish flare	K
Quivered and sparked the shop the sheaves	L
Of sunbeams glanced from the sign on the eaves	L
Shot from the golden letters broke	M
And splintered to little scattered lights	N
Jeanne Tourmont entered the shop her poke	M
Bonnet tilted itself to rights	N
And her face looked out like the moon on nights	N
Of flickering clouds Monsieur Popain I	O
Want gooseberries an apple or two	B
Or excellent plums but not if they're high	O
Haven't you some which a strong wind blew	B
I've only a couple of francs for you	B
Monsieur Popain shrugged and rubbed his hands	P
What could he do the times were sad	Q
A couple of francs and such demands	P
And asking for fruits a little bad	Q
Wind blown indeed He never had	Q
Anything else than the very best	R
He pointed to baskets of blunted pears	S
With the thin skin tight like a bursting vest	R
All yellow and red and brown in smears	T
Monsieur Popain's voice denoted tears	S
He took up a pear with tender care	K
And pressed it with his hardened thumb	U
Smell it Mademoiselle the perfume there	K
Is like lavender and sweet thoughts come	U
Only from having a dish at home	V
And those grapes They melt in the mouth like wine	W
Just a click of the tongue and they burst to honey	X
They're only this morning off the vine	W
And I paid for them down in silver money	X
The Corporal's widow is witness her pony	X
Brought them in at sunrise to day	Y
Those oranges Gold They're almost red	Z
They seem little chips just broken away	Y
From the sun itself Or perhaps instead	Z
You'd like a pomegranate they're rarely gay	Y
When you split them the seeds are like crimson spray	Y
Yes they're high they're high and those Turkey figs	A2
They all come from the South and Nelson's ships	B2
Make it a little hard for our rigs	A2
They must be forever giving the slips	B2
To the cursed English and when men clips	B2
Through powder to bring them why dainties mounts	C2
A bit in price Those almonds now	D2
I'll strip off that husk when one discounts	C2
A life or two in a nigger row	E2
With the man who grew them it does seem how	D2
They would come dear and then the fight	F2
At sea perhaps our boats have heels	G2
And mostly they sail along at night	F2
But once in a way they're caught one feels	G2
Ivory's not better nor finer why peels	G2
From an almond kernel are worth two sous	H2
It's hard to sell them now he sighed	I2
Purses are tight but I shall not lose	H2
There's plenty of cheaper things to choose	H2
He picked some currants out of a wide	I2
Earthen bowl They make the tongue	J2
Almost fly out to suck them bride	I2
Currants they are they were planted long	K2
Ago for some new Marquise among	J2
Other great beauties before the Chateau	E2
Was left to rot Now the Gardener's wife	L2
He that marched off to his death at Marengo	J2
Sells them to me she keeps her life	L2
From snuffing out with her pruning knife	L2
She's a poor old thing but she learnt the trade	M2
When her man was young and the young Marquis	X
Couldn't have enough garden The flowers he made	M2
All new And the fruits But 'twas said that he	X
Was no friend to the people and so they laid	M2
Some charge against him a cavalcade	M2
Of citizens took him away they meant	N2
Well but I think there was some mistake	J2
He just pottered round in his garden bent	N2
On growing things we were so awake	J2
In those days for the New Republic's sake	J2
He's gone and the garden is all that's left	O2
Not in ruin but the currants and apricots	P2
And peaches furred and sweet with a cleft	O2
Full of morning dew in those green glazed pots	P2
Why Mademoiselle there is never an eft	O2
Or worm among them and as for theft	O2
How the old woman keeps them I cannot say	Y
But they're finer than any grown this way	Y
Jeanne Tourmont drew back the filigree ring	J2
Of her striped silk purse tipped it upside down	A
And shook it two coins fell with a ding	J2
Of striking silver beneath her gown	A
One rolled the other lay a thing	J2
Sparked white and sharply glistening	J2
In a drop of sunlight between two shades	Q2
She jerked the purse took its empty ends	R2
And crumpled them toward the centre braids	Q2
The whole collapsed to a mass of blends	R2
Of colours and stripes Monsieur Popain friends	R2
We have always been In the days before	S2
The Great Revolution my aunt was kind	O2
When you needed help You need no more	S2
'Tis we now who must beg at your door	S2
And will you refuse The little man	T2
Bustled denied his heart was good	O2
But times were hard He went to a pan	T2
And poured upon the counter a flood	O2
Of pungent raspberries tanged like wood	O2
He took a melon with rough green rind	O2
And rubbed it well with his apron tip	U2
Then he hunted over the shop to find	O2
Some walnuts cracking at the lip	U2
And added to these a barberry slip	U2
Whose acrid oval berries hung	J2
Like fringe and trembled He reached a round	O2
Basket with handles from where it swung	J2
Against the wall laid it on the ground	O2
And filled it then he searched and found	O2
The francs Jeanne Tourmont had let fall	V2
You'll return the basket Mademoiselle	C
She smiled The next time that I call	V2
Monsieur You know that very well	C
'Twas lightly said but meant to tell	C
Monsieur Popain bowed somewhat abashed	O2
She took her basket and stepped out	O2
The sunlight was so bright it flashed	O2
Her eyes to blindness and the rout	O2
Of the little street was all about	O2
Through glare and noise she stumbled dazed	O2
The heavy basket was a care	K
She heard a shout and almost grazed	O2
The panels of a chaise and pair	K
The postboy yelled and an amazed	O2
Face from the carriage window gazed	O2
She jumped back just in time her heart	O2
Beating with fear Through whirling light	O2
The chaise departed but her smart	O2
Was keen and bitter In the white	O2
Dust of the street she saw a bright	O2
Streak of colours wet and gay	Y
Red like blood Crushed but fair	K
Her fruit stained the cobbles of the way	Y
Monsieur Popain joined her there	K
Tiens Mademoiselle	C
c'est le General Bonaparte partant pour la Guerre	K

Amy Lowell

The Fruit Shop Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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