Zeal of a lemon

Concentrate
    she uttered to her
    roots as they
    sprouted a prodigious
    tree.

Bloom
    went the flowers
    before emitting new
    harvest.

A plume
    of young lemons.

So they grew
    widening piths
    taut fibres
    sour blood.

Pluck
Peel
squeeze
    their destiny.

Cross-sectioned
    the citrus can
    see its worth
    of cleansing flavour

    a lick is tart
    upon a wound is fire

Inspire
    it has
    it does
    with austere
    outlooks and
    firm acidity

Bathe us in your
tough-love brine

We can only hope
    for the honour

the zeal
of a lemon