Much fruit
from the
Poet tree
Today
Yumm



Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

Making a meal is like making love,
At the beginning, its all about preparation,
Getting the right ingredients, finding the right temperature,
And of course, one must love the meal one is about to "make".
And away you go, mixing up the wet and dry pieces,
Stirring them together until a stiff dough is formed,
The aromas tickle the nose, the taste of sweet and salt, just right,
The quickening of movement when everything begins to cook at the same time,
The heart starts pounding as boiling bubbles satisfy our senses,
A frenzied rush to get everything on the plate at the same time,
A  sudden rush of staem, noise, maybe a little burn or two?,
Then everything just kinda comes together, and the food is taken off the boil, simmering slowly to a warm glow,,, mmmmmmmm yumm.



                                                                  (c) eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com 2010

Tick tock
This stupid clock
Tortoise hands running by the seconds
158 days still too long
18 here I come
Candles already know the wish I'm going to make
Cake is cutting itself
Eating it will be no problem
Ice cream cake from Dairy Queen
Yumm ;)
158 days and counting down
Waiting to hear the BOOM
18 makes when the door hits the ground
Screeching of car tires
Sirens blaring behind me
Across sixteen states
Cops singing their song
Bad Boys Bad Boys Whatcha Gunna Do
When They Come For You
I'll press the pedal through the metal
Let the world choke on my dust
158 days & counting down
Catch me on the news
You'll never hear from me again
A ghost will be pushing that 454

~~~
Traditions lead to streets of dream
to scant abodes
beneath the green
So tiny
small
'neath gardens tall
with russet
stacked
above them all
~
Their chimneys waft
of fire's stoke
the meek step forth
though bashful folk
The pitter pat
of little feet
arise
the length
of Little Street
~
They take my hand as pipers chant
descend the street
with river's dance
Around about
the dancers croon
to every home
I'm blessed ...
buffoon
~
Tranquil glade amongst the heather
sparks ignite
the moods in feather
Flames leap forth
as cauldrons
coddle
tubers roast
as whispers twaddle

Pipes
I fill
and pints
I swallow

Tip 'em Back
their chant
seems hollow
~
Breaking bread
their stew
yumm - titious
though
in my head
their brew
grows vicious
~
Little Street
a fading glow
still ...
I was little once you know
The shutters
close
the visions
wane
their magic
carves
my hiking cane
Another day
another plane
the child inside

asleep

again
~~~

The moment right before.
That's THE moment.
What it's all about.
Will I? Won't I?
I know I will.
The breath in, deep
Before the leap!
Darkness. Falling, aaah; splash!
Pop. Glug glug, gulp; yumm!
Vasoconstriction and focus.
Followed immediately by
Vasodilation and calm.

You know what I love about taking a road trip to LA?

Looking out of the window

Watching as the miles and miles of hills overlap one another

Seeing the neat rows

Hundreds of them

Each field a new shape

Each a new fruit

I love rolling down the window

The breeze whipping my hair around

Too lazy and too care free to tie it up

Letting that earthy smell fill up the car

Realizing I need a new playlist

Stashing my favorite candy in the back, yumm

But what I love the most about it all?

Knowing that after those 6 hours have stretched 5 hours too long...

(you always said I had the patience
of a 5 year old)

I can at least comfortably have a spot on your bed