Toss in a pinch of love
By Penny4athought
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There are no pages I can find
No written account to help me
As I stare at the flour stained counter
And wish for yesterday
when I stood waist high
to her five foot three frame
As she rolled out the dough
Precise measure
disregarded
Her heart knew
How much to add
Her fingers knew
The perfect pinch of…
Oh, those tantalizing
Well remembered aromas
From her warm kitchen
Make me dream for that taste
That taste I cannot recreate
Long gone are the days
I could have asked her
Long past the last time
We'd shared those creations
I wipe the tears away
toss in too large a pinch of salt
And try to scoop it back out
Tearfully wishing
she were here
Whispering to me
Those secret measures
but mostly
Wishing
To hear her voice
once again
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Comments
I like the title! There are
I like the title! There are always those unasked questions! And simple tasks and smells bring back memories and persons so keenly. In Welsh we would say that my grandmoher used 'the notion of the eye not the hand' I think, in measuring her flour etc. Rhiannon
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Enjoyed this very much. Words
Enjoyed this very much. Words of a poem describing how words in a recipe are not enough, but the poem works brilliantly. It's beautiful and sad and true
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Hi Penny,
Hi Penny,
you make such a valid point in your poem and bring my own memories back. My mum used to make melt in the mouth swiss cakes and never used a recipe book, so now I can only enjoy the memory because there's no recipe to follow and I've never been able to make them since.
Your poem makes me glad to have experienced those moments even though they've long gone.
Thank you for sharing.
Jenny.
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