For Charlie -- on her way to the banquet
For those of you confused, see Mashed Potatoes in a Gravy Sky.
The good Queen scratched her stately, graying head and questioningly pondered supper's dearth. "Now, what on earth can I prepare from clouds and what good thing can clouds prepare on earth?"
And as the question circled 'round her head she thought of those whom she had left behind to season coming seasons from the sky and thus infuse all time with savory thyme.
Her loving-mother-lips begat a smile as she recalled one tender-hearted soul, And knowingly she rose from mountain's chair and scooped the lumpy clouds into her bowl.
And adding melting sunlit buttermilk, she gently swirled and mashed the clouds with care. Soft peaks and softer divots rose and fell and filled with evening's gravy-laden air.
That tender-hearted soul just watched and wept. Then, in contented gravy dreams, she slept.
Grandma's gravy truly from heaven....best in the universe...I pity those who only know gravy from packets in the store...They don't know what they're missing...
Luv,
Ahna
My mama was a Gravy Queen... and ever year on Thanksgiving Day I would call to have her tell me just exactly how to make the imitation famous gravy so that I could be a Gravy Princess. Even though 17 years of marriage passed, I never wrote that recipe down because Mom was supposed to be there to tell me how to make it each and every year... It was kind of my silly tradition I guess. A crutch I didn't really need, but that I used because it was tradition. That first Thanksgiving after she died... I cried as I tried to make her gravy without her gentle advice. And maybe my tears salted the gravy just a little. I still feel lost when I try to do it, and it is a recipe that will never be written down... maybe so that I can stretch each year, just a little, as I try to remember her voice as she would tell me exactly what to do. With any luck, maybe someday I too will become a Gravy Queen.
Sorry... your poem drew me into those mashed potato clouds with perfect gravy poured atop and made the (gravy) memories spill over...
Hey this rocks! The rhythm is perfect; in fact, I've been rereading 'Paradise Lost' as my bedtime reading (nothing facilitates slumber better! haha) and the steady cadence of iambic pentameter has created a sort of lethargic conditioning effect on me, so that when I read your first line, I immediately lapsed into a sleepy stupor. lol It's got a light whimsical flavor that appeals to the children in us all.
Oh Leo -- I love it. You won't believe how hard I tried to get the seasonings into my sonnet, but they just wouldn't go. It still needs a pinch of sage--but I know that mother-sage put it in anyways. Thank you so much for completing the thought! --Charlie
A book of nature inspired poems and essays, written from the heart and soul of a life-long nature, animal, and wilderness lover, and dedicated to today’s children - Earth's only hope for a better tomorrow.
This book won 'The Poetry Category'
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Luv,
Ahna
Sorry... your poem drew me into those mashed potato clouds with perfect gravy poured atop and made the (gravy) memories spill over...
Love,
Crys...
Ron
I, too, love this one. Dang. Wish I'd written the original and the follow up: delicious imagery!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.