Making food always made him feel both happy and sad.
Every morsel that left his kitchen was a love note to those who ordered it.
A loving response was an empty plate that came back, ready to be cleaned for a new missive.
Leaving food on the plate meant rejection and left him wondering what went wrong.
Focusing on the food was what gave him pleasure
Every morsel perfectly prepared and consummately seasoned
At the moment he could think of nothing better existing in the universe
So why was his stomach still an echo chamber of empty rumbles?
The fact the meal in question was just an old magazine spread and he had no money
Putting the food for today on her credit card
Or she would have, but it was denied like usual
Of course, that meant she was going to go hungry again
Really if it happened too much longer and she would get a meal at the emergency room
Vagabond travels throughout the world
It allows for so many opportunities to touch lives
Simple sharing of a meal to participate in rambunctious parties
Invigorating dynamic exchanges of ideas and comradery
Then the postcards are the physical reminders of the adventures
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Reaching for the fork, she gently fluffed the grains
It helped release some of the steam trapped within, perfuming her face
Cooking might not be her jam, but this simple act made her so happy
Even if the rest of the meal was now charcoal
Cuisine so fine that that it demanded to be taken out for a dinner date
He showered her with flavors that were tart, sweet, salty, and spicy
Everything balanced to a perfection, a true masterpiece of culinary art
Food may be temporally empheneral, but the memories of that meal will be eternal
Residing all along a line
Outside sitting on a bench of pine
Wolfing down the meal upon which they dine
But he didn’t have the money to pay
It made him feel really bad, but he had been so hungry
Leaving the slip on the table with an “I’m sorry” note
Larry couldn’t really enjoy his first meal in three days as he ran away
Image: laistassets.scprdev.org/i/35a5dc7572c359515f3ba86513ee4655/5d60892d61a8c00008998ec4-eight.jpg
Silently my stomach ambushes me
Not giving me a chance to finish making my meal
All I can think of is how much I want to eat something, anything
Candy soon fills my pie hole, ruining my dinner, but still
Killing my hunger dead in its tracks
Image: c1.staticflickr.com/7/6149/5941149147_c5592c0454_b.jpg
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
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Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
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Never Short On Words 