this poem makes me want: strawberries and a companion. Not so much sex, but someone with whom to go picking berries or hanging out in fields or walking home with. It could be read to a child or a lover because each would get something from it appropriate to them. Probably wouldn't read it to a favorite grandmother though unless she was, you know, extremely hip.

As for the eroticism of berries, there is a short scene in the pilot of Firefly where Kaylee is alone in the kitchen with a box of strawberries which is... extremely erotic.

Thank you for posting the poem.