Your poems stick to my
unsophisticated palette
like peanut butter pasting
my tongue and mind together.
Soft pink inner linings absorb
this nourishment first
before I swallow it
fully masticated minus the mess.
It bypasses my stomach,
and goes directly to my heart --
the first responder
to come to the rescue of
my soul's digestion.
I'm rereading Gregory Orr's book of poetry - How Beautiful the Beloved. I wipe tears away often, as in frequently, unaware of the reason why I'm crying. Sacred places are often found in and on pages.
The English often have "digestives" with their tea. I've always been fascinated with this idea. What criteria makes a cookie/biscuit a digestive, I wonder? Books are my digestives...... with tea, of course.
4 comments:
Come have tea with me?
I appreciate the poems that are digestible to the unsophisticated. :)
wonderful nourishment!
Great poem, but you know me I especially liked the part about peanut butter. crunchy I hope. Mom
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