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coarse Westphalian fare
rye of flour and berry
endowed with a deep
rich brown earthen
aroma hinting its
peasant born history
soured but slightly
fermented by starter
a savory staple with
ham and a full bodied beer
makes a fine hearty lunch
or for lighter indulgence
with gouda green grapes
and a crisply cooled Riesling
seldom does poetry
celebrate food but
sometimes the muse
arrives hungry
From my book Ephemera
Poetry From My Far Side
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Exploring the poetry of everyday life
Never, oh! never, nothing will die... (Alfred Tennyson)
We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world. -jack gilbert
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...
Blue cheese and olives sandwich. Haven’t found real Pumpernickle bagels for quite a while. Fine free verse; the poem to my ear moves fast like someone describing something he’s about to eat. Wait, make that “it’s about to eat.”
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I miss the bakeries of my youth
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haha especially love the ending! 🙂
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*smile*
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Love it …now I’m hungry!
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ha ha – me, too
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Fabulous ending, Paul!
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glad you enjoyed it LuAnne
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