Spoons

Spoons. . . Bright and shiny artful spoons, How much she loved them. They covered her mauve walls In rich wooden frames Encased behind glass. Each unique silver spoon With its own special story to tell. There was Montana. . . A silver cowboy riding a Bucking bronc, enamel inlaid, On a twilight blue sky In a shield shaped form. . . Each spoon from a different Place--each contained bits And pieces of her past. She recalled the spring day At a rodeo filled with surprises And how cold her ears were. How he dropped his truck keys In her lap to keep safe for him-- How they later danced the two step And how warm her ears became. Oh yes, her Montana spoon was Indeed a very special spoon! Then there was New York with Niagara Falls depicted on the handle. A flood of romantic emotions returned With this little beauty, maid of the mist Engraved meticulously in its bowl. The thunder of the falls-- how they Kissed her cheeks, how He kissed Her cheeks, and how they both laughed. Oh, New York would never be forgotten! Then there was Arizona. . . A tiny replica of the Grand Canyon Encircled with desert flowers Adorned its rust colored handle. She recalled how she arrived at dusk. How she marveled at the friendliness Of the deer walking in the parking lot. How her camera slipped from her hands Into his. She remembered that was The moment they met. He too was a Photographer there to capture the sunset. How the coffee they shared warmed Their hands—how he warmed her heart. Row after row, spoon after spoon, Wall after wall. . . . could tell it all! For the contest: "Simply, Absolutely, Utterly Just Art" Sponsored by: Sami Al-khalili