Lovely to have so much tasty food!
Everything’s already prepared – it’s easy.
Food shouldn’t be wasted.
There must be something I can make out of this.
Obviously, I need to add fresh veggies – for nutrition.
Value the leftovers. Save money.
Ew. No. This can’t be good anymore, right?
Rubbish bin – no, I can’t waste food…but there’s
Still so much left!
Category Archives: Poetry
Too Many Leftovers
A Poem Appeared
A poem appeared in my head last night
As I laid on my pillow to sleep
The words flowed like rapids,
Like a bubbling brook,
And the meaning was so rich and deep.
In the gray light of dawn
The words faded away
Like a spirit too shy to be seen
And even the meaning,
So strong in the night,
Became hidden, lost,
Like a dream.
Aim
If you have the strength to distort the parabola,
Aim straight for the target ahead.
If you do not, you must use the parabola,
And aim high above instead.
Stalled
Fingers slow and then stop
In a ritardando of clicks –
Like a train coming to a halt,
The brain stalls,
The words flee,
And the story breaks down.
Time for a jump.
The Emptiness of Silence
The emptiness of silence
Is full, rich, strong,
And always present.
Even when sounds try
To chase it out,
To replace it,
It remains
In corners and
Under furniture
Until the sound
Fades away.
It Is Not
It is not pretty flowers,
Candlelit tables, bubbling wine,
Or expensive chocolates.
It is not lacy lingerie,
Satin sheets, silken skin,
Or sultry perfume.
It is not token presents,
Thoughtful gifts, mushy cards,
Or precious diamonds.
It is not something shown one day,
One night, one date,
Or even one moment.
It is not limited to,
Defined by, proven by,
Or even debunked by
Valentine’s Day.
twytte 