One of the items found among my mother’s personal items
after she passed away was an old cookbook. The book was in near terminal
condition. You might say, “It had shared its last batch of cookies!”
Seeing the cookbook immediately triggered an image of my mother
standing in front of our old, depression-era, wood-burning cook stove preparing
supper. I just had to write a poem
about this ancient book.
The photos, which required lots of computer touch up,
are of the front cover and some of the book’s handwritten pages.
The cover was discolored and torn
Its corners were rounded and worn
The binding has seen better days
Pages were faded. . . . a role time plays
Inside the cover and written with care
A list of pages; her favorites to share
Pages of hand-written treats fill her book,
Earmarks and notes call for a special look
For these could signal a favorite recipe
Maybe a unique creation fit for royalty
Opening the book, more likely than not
It always seemed to find the same spot
Was this a message from the vast beyond?
Maybe, a recipe of which Mom was fond?
Reading those pages, one need not go far
To find, in the column, a penciled in star
Bingo! It became clear as blue in the sky
Mom’s favorite; strawberry-rhubarb
pie!
Poem by Herm Meyer
Poem by Herm Meyer
STUFF:
In a few days it will be one year since I started this blog and posted my first poem. As of this morning, there have been 4850 page views in 73 countries.
A big .......Thank You!
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