dinner

you lay before me the work of your hands your time spent    chopping       slicing          roasting             grilling salted, peppered and herbed to perfection and presented on a plate a gift of beauty and taste appreciated fully

mute words

frustrated I become mute incapable of the simplest expression of my thoughts I have nothing that would do justice to this tenderness nothing that would accurately reflect the sensation your words bring me or the tingling on my tongue from your oven-baked poetry in food form or the ripples flowing through me from the droplets…… Continue reading mute words

The Cake is a Lie (warning: this poem may contain nuts and swears)

[cake update here] twas a Sunday afternoon when dear daughter and I did ponder why don’t we make a lovely cake and decorate it oh so nice and so to the kitchen we rushed our eyes aglow with keenness but hopes were crushed upon the fridge where butter lurked, but not enough let us go…… Continue reading The Cake is a Lie (warning: this poem may contain nuts and swears)