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Maggie Gochee Poem
My grandmother's teacup
was a coffee mug
And the tea steeped inside it
was used to kill bugs
But grandma did sip
tough bird that she was
with no honey to sweeten the taste
She worked hard all day
and into the night
Then sat and sipped tea
by bee candlelight
I'd beg for a sip
but never could swallow
And out it would come
what a waste
My grandmother lived
'til a hundred and three
And with her last breath claimed
"it was the tea!"
So I sit and I sip
from the mug left to me
I add honey it sweetens the taste
Maggie
Copyright © Maggie Gochee | Year Posted 2015
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Maggie Gochee Poem
Zucchini fresh, sprigs of dill
Onions, boil, blend
Olive oil, salt to taste
Share soup with a friend
Lovely green goodness
Simple, light
Lunch!
Maggie
Copyright © Maggie Gochee | Year Posted 2015
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Maggie Gochee Poem
The dishes pile in the sink
proof of my good meal
I chopped and stirred and now I think
you wash, yes, that's my deal
Maggie
Copyright © Maggie Gochee | Year Posted 2015
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Maggie Gochee Poem
A stretch at the train station before leaving France, listening to languages I don’t understand, catching a word or two, I sit in silence and people watch as you catch my eye bringing mother in from the rain, searching for a spot to leave her securely as security postures you to be on your way, yet mother is old, skin paper thin, so she can stay, and you leave her with me as we speak through the eyes and a nod of our heads, then she wanders away and I watch from my seat as she hangs damp clothes on rails, then can’t find her way to where she left her bag near her seat, so I go get her. And she wants to thank me. Wants to thank me with food. And I can’t refuse.
A simple sweet roll
Shared by one who has little
Was I fed by God?
Maggie
Copyright © Maggie Gochee | Year Posted 2015
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Maggie Gochee Poem
Great love
My love
But what great love bears not great pain
If not in daily tribulation
Then at thy final parting
Maggie
Copyright © Maggie Gochee | Year Posted 2015
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