I made some Banana Bread today.
The scent of the half-baked loaf wafter through this house –
And even out the windows to fill the neighborhood.
On this warm and sunny fall day –
The transitioning of war to chilly and
Change is working in every color of every leaf
In every vein and in ever tip
Just like those bananas changed.
And you know what is funny about bananas
Is
They give you every last chance to eat them
Each day their composition transitioning
Until one day
You go to eat that banana
And its too mushy and soft to eat – even though it’s at its sweetest
Then you realize there's three other bananas
Attached to the one you were going to eat
And somehow that banana becomes so much more than
One banana
Changing its color
Its scent
Its taste
Its essence
Until the scent is roaming the neighborhood
Flooding into other’s lives who have
Opened their windows today too
Why does anyone make banana bread -
I made some banana bread today.
Categories:
wafter, autumn, beautiful, desire, growth,
Form: Free verse
Four little stinkers
All in a row
They just want someone
To love 'em, you know
People run and hide
Whenever they appear
These white striped kitties
These friendly little dears
First one's named Flower
Second is Bouquet
The third is Li'l Wafter
Last is Sweet Sachet
Skunks need lovin' too
It's not a well known fact
So next time you see one
Just show some tact
Don't hold your nose
Pretend nothing stunk
You'll make this little critter
A happy little skunk
Four little stinkers
Their spray makes you squint
But make 'em all happy and
They'll smell like peppermint
©Jack Ellison 2012
Categories:
wafter, children, happy, happy,
Form: Quatrain
The house wasn't much to look at,
Although it was grand in its day.
But we never got tired of visiting,
Or seeing the family on Sunday.
The floors were old and creaky,
The walls were strong and tall.
The yard was ever the smallest,
Yet, we still found a way to play ball.
The clock in the kitchen kept pendulum time,
Its gentle gongs...as the hours were to go.
The louder sounds of plinking from the front room,
As we toyed with the keys of the old piano.
The sweet aromas from the bakery next door,
Wafter over us in the air.
Always reminding one of that pleasant place,
Filled with cakes and cookies and eclairs.
We didn't understand the words,
That our Grandparents often were to say.
The polish banter among our parents,
The adults kept their secrets from us that way.
Our Moms were helping Grandma in the kitchen,
Our Dads on the porch playing cards.
We ran our own little games outside,
More noise and laughter from the yard.
Only the memories now remain.
And sometimes after a day of aching hands and weary feet,
My mind turns to those happy childhood days,
As I remember the times spent...on Erie Street.
Categories:
wafter, introspectionold, old,
Form: Light Verse