Golden loaves of bread
that rise in grandma’s woodstove
served with fall preservesSmokey farmhouse memories
of breakfast conversations-cj holm
Golden loaves of bread
that rise in grandma’s woodstove
served with fall preservesSmokey farmhouse memories
of breakfast conversations-cj holm
‘Smoky memories’ is nice. The entire poem paints (dare I say bakes) a lovely picture (loaf).
Love this response! I can just smell the bread baking…
Wonderful memories, love the poem.
That is marvelous!
The smell of bread dough and the smell of bread baking brings back memories.
Great SSS.
I meant haiku, not SSS. LOL
This comment is in response to your post about bleeding ulcer/your hospital stay…the computer/link would not let me post a comment on that post, so I clicked over here. I am sorry you are in the hospital and am sending you healing vibes for both body and soul. Do not lose hope…the sun rises everyday and on a local level there are many good news stories. There are people who still say good morning, hold doors open for others, volunteer as scout leaders or reading tutors and understand we are all connected. And that’s my point…wishing you peace and grace through the WordPress cyberspace.
Thanks, I am so lucky to be supported by so many friends… Some times darkness can be so overwhelming