I Dream of Olives

I dream of olives, green and black, fresh or preserved in jars, even tins.

I crave their taste or should I say tastes for there are so many variations.

And then their oils.

From spicy to almost sweet, lemony.

As deep a sensation on the nose as wine.

Maybe even more satisfying than wine but it’s not a competition.

Each has its own mysteries for the palate to explore.

olive oil

with a hunk of fresh bread

the sun and the earth

Early morning outside at a harbour café in Saint Tropez

An elderly man sits down and adjusts his straw hat

Without a word the waiter brings him:

a newspaper

a glass of champagne

a plate of olives

This would be good I think.. yes..

I dream of olives

the green and the black

the fine soft down

on the back of your neck

our fingers touching