Food Imagery Poems

In the shadows of our nation's promise, 
Some stand waiting, papers clutched in hand, 
While others cross where fences compromise, 
And find a different welcome...

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A heron watched me 
from painted rushes,
brush-stroked by a man 
who lived in a wagon
lacquered with stars 
and road-dust and wind,
who sometimes drank too much
and...

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It began with a bargain on a winter night,
When the cupboards were bare
And hope sat idle in the corners.


He came with frost on his collar,
A...

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Scavenging squirrels search for acorns, scratching old stumps from trees. 
Scampering up my sugar maple, they steal my bird feeder seeds. 
Sleepy salamanders wake from...

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Tourtière, Canadian—
beef and pork browned well.
Mom always added breadcrumbs,
onions, celery,
and mashed potatoes,
spice blend too—
yum.
...

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I awoke early that morning

to an unfamiliar familiar sound.

I rose from the bed with cacophonous singing

ringing in my ears, separated the curtains

with the breast stroke...

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Underneath the blue-black twilight
of an impending, grim, nightmarish sky,
I hear the ping of deathly bells ringing,
signaling that my end is nigh.

Buzzards circle above,
swooping down, playing...

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Am just but a foriegner ,in this vile land,
I find no comfort,i see no peace,
This is alien,the food tasteless,
The water salty,the trees dry quick.


Am just...

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Lockdown. 
Lockdown. 
Lockdown. 
We’re all huddled in a corner, eyes squeezed tight. 
The lights are all off, we’re deprived of the light. 
Maybe if I...

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END TIMES : ONE 

[Poet’s Note : This poem arose out of a play on quote in Bible by Christ : “I will open my...

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Cooler breezes give us relief from the stifling heat,
A signal autumn is coming, and summer is in full retreat.

Leaves on the trees turn yellow, orange,...

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Greetings for the New Year and the joy in everyone,
Sing a song to welcome in the year,
Celebrate the stroke of twelve and have a little...

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Tender, dark and white meat,
Tangy cranberries and
The best-mashed potatoes
Topped with a thick gravy;
That is so delicious,
The mouth-watering smell
Triggers my appetite....

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Afterwards, Mithila

Mithila, you may never know,
But I can sense- deep, unshakable…
Something strange stirs on my horizon.
Perhaps, a festive awaits,
A celebration of fleeting mortality
That rushes in,...

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                  There once was a lass who waddled.
...

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