It’s beautiful out here…


324. kisses on the eyelids, so tender

325. the little bird that finds me in a parking lot, drinks water from the lid of my water bottle when I bend down to answer his question

unless

unless (Photo credit: Dean Terry)

326. dog napping at my feet

327. the first writing morning in a long number of days

328. returning to gratitude

329. summer birthdays

330. wine and sweetheart cherries in the candle lit garden

331. friends around the table

332. teenagers sleeping in late

333. teenagers who are gainfully employed

334. husband rising for work

335. healthy bodies

336. the possible

337. “Unless” by Carol Shields

338. remembering Port Townsend tribe

339. opportunities presenting when eyes and hands are open

340. friends who are patient and kind

341. morning sounds

342. finding poems where you least expect

343. considering laundry

344. God who never grows tired, never gives up, waits while I do both

345. wrinkles that prove living

346. a face held by hands, top of head kissed and life words spoken

347. directors of my spirit, soul friends

348. anticipating solitude

349. family holiday plans

350. blueberry waffle plans for tomorrows breakfast

351. photography and captured moments

352. children who pull away, grow strong, test wings

353. young adult son full license success

354. reminders of those with less that teach me more

355. reminders that intentions are not enough

356. reminders to act, phone, speak, write, touch, walk, move…

357. harvest… always

Different kinds of cherries

Different kinds of cherries (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Poetry Friday 022


Work dough

Image via Wikipedia

My daily bread

I donned my apron, floured the pan,
wiped flour from my nose,
and in the pan I placed the dough,
then left it while it rose.

Soon yeast and warmth and time took hold
and swelled the dough times two,
it’s perfect plumpness telling me
that baking time was due.

The oven beeped it’s readiness
the temp. was right on track,
and so I placed the lovely dough
upon the middle rack.

The dough rose higher and higher still,
it’s aroma filled the air.
I dreamed of spreading fresh preserves
on thick warm bread, with care.

I dreamed, my hunger deepened
I planned great feasts in my head.
And all the while my hungry  heart
cried out for more than bread.

Then suddenly I smelled a smell
and realised with a shock,
that in my rush to bake my bread
I forgot the timer clock!

The oven door I opened
and there to my dismay
instead of bounty in my pan
was darkness and decay.

I looked again and shook my head
perplexed and in distress
for now I knew beyond a doubt
that I couldn’t eat this mess.

“Thou shalt not live by bread alone”
came unbidden to my mind.
And I thanked the Lord for burnt offerings
of bread and other kinds.

And then I sat and ate The Word,
and chewed on it awhile.
Digested and internalised
this bread did satisfy.