Sunday, July 15, 2012

Sunday Morning Poetry


Butter, like love,
seems common enough
yet has so many imitators.
I held a brick of it, heavy and cool,
and glimpsed what seemed like skin
beneath a corner of its wrap;
the decolletage revealed
a most attractive fat!

And most refined.
Not milk, not cream,
not even creme de la creme.
It was a delicacy which assured me
that bliss follows agitation,
that even pasture daisies
through the alchemy of four stomachs
may grace a king's table.

We have a yellow bowl near the toaster
where summer's butter grows
soft and sentimental.
We love it better for its weeping,
its nostalgia for buckets and churns
and deep stone well,
for the press of a wooden butter mold
shaped like a swollen heart.


rachel awes said...

oh relyn,
this poem is beautifully crafted/what a find!
"through the alchemy of
four stomachs"...WOW!
what hope we have for
ourselves - for our
butter life.
your relationship w/your
daughter sounds like gold
(or butter?)..
YOUR words/presence/friendship
shine through this online world
for me. thank you deeply.

"Auntie" sezzzzzz... said...

Butter... Gone from my life...

3 years ago, finding 3 clogged heart arteries and fixing them with stents... Completely changed my way of eating.

Oh I still remember how delicious butter-in-cooking tastes. I just can't eat it. :-) I mean I-humanly-can't-eat so many things, anymore. They just won't "go down my throat," is a way to put it.

My heart will eventually get me. But I can't consume, that which I know will hurry along my passing. I choose not to consume. I choose, very easily.

I don't know the secret to this ease. Nor do I wonder, at it. Even knowing that many people can NOT STOP eating, certain things.

I'm just grateful that I can stop, and easily.

-sigh- Too much info. -giggles-

Mrs. E said...

Remind me of making butter with my grandmother and my mom. What a beautiful poem!

Roban said...

This is a lovely poem, Relyn. I have an old butter churn that belonged to my mother's family.... And I prefer butter over margarine any day!

Mac n' Janet said...

I love butter, we quit using margarine years ago because if I'm going to eat fat I want it to be real, not some conglomerate of polymers.

S. Etole said...

So many stories in this poem and photo.

Sue (Someones Mom) said...

How could words about butter not be full and sweet...interesting and tasty! Have a great week!

Marilyn said...

I would never have thought of writing about butter. Indeed a fascinating find.

knitalatte said...

I love butter! As always, everything in moderation.
Great poem. I can't believe your summer break is almost over, wow. So fast. I've enjoyed your posts about the fun you've been having with your daughter.
Sounds like you are rested, recharged and ready to jump back in.

Amy said...

Have you, by chance, seen Cranford? Actually, Return to Cranford is what this reminds me of . . . the butter pressed into a heart to celebrate a wedding. :)

Lisa Gordon said...

Wonderful words, and such a beautiful photograph to go with them. So nicely done.
Wishing you a great day ahead!

Jeanie said...

Another gem of a poem you've found -- and wonderful photo!

Jennifer Richardson said...

you're a treasure trove
of beauty, Relyn!
and I must make something
with at least two
glorious sticks
of creamy yellow butter:)

Tracy said...

...mmm... simply delicious! :o) ((HUGS))

Lubna said...

A drizzle of butter on hot toast with a spoonful of honey, served with love, makes for the nicest breakfast.

GraceGal said...

I love this poem. Who would have thought that a poem about butter could stir up so many good images and memories?

Monica said...

hi there, just stumbled in.

this was just so good. i never would have thought a poem about butter would keep me reading!
excellently crafted.

Jenny Woolf said...

Butter. I love it. Not that good for me, but I would rather have a little of something nice than a lot of something that is only so-so.

Scientech World said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

Oldies, but Goodies