Candles and celebration
Laughter of intimacy
Testament of rites
Crucible of wedding
Bread and festival
Yeast of endearment
Kitchen and hearth
Banquet of home
Spices and mystery
Day routine then eve
Crusts on the floor
Shards of family
Disdain and accusation
Secrecy of deceit
Lies, pleas, revelation
Cleft of the home
Confession and shame
Betrayal of pledge
Dough falls, bitter mold
Ruin of marriage
Regret and apology
Renewal of vows
Rises then a new loaf
Gathering of the clan
Poem in honor of National Poetry Month
Bread image courtesy of Commons.wikimedia.org
Sharon Bonin-Pratt's Ink Flare 
Comments on: "Bread" (13)
You’ve so well described ‘bread’. All the reasons I used to love making bread.
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Thanks, Jacqui. I didn’t know you used to bake bread. From scratch? It’s such a rewarding experience, making the most basic of foods to share with the ones you love.
I love the magic of it, adding yeast and watching a glop of sticky dough rise and stretch. Yes, a lot like raising a family.
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I used to make at least a loaf a week. When my bread-maker broke, I switched to the mixer with a kneading attachment and that worked even better. Then, the hands gave out on me… Sigh.
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So sorry, that would be a game ender. There is nothing like the smell of freshly baked bread. Who doesn’t run for the butter when they smell it?
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Lovely write. Especially liked
“Crusts on the floor
Shards of family”
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Thank you, Andrew. This one is from my heart.
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Well done.
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Thank you.
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A great parallel between bread and marriage/family. Yeast of endearment, crusts on the floor, falling dough and new loaf rising – know them all. Beautifully written. This comes at a time when our apprentice baker has won the Qld title and is now going to represent Qld nationally in the bread making competition. I’m crossing my fingers he only experiences the new loaf rising in the next few weeks.
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That’s lovely! I hope he wins. Please tell him I send my best wishes, and wish I could taste his bread – must be DELISH!
Thank you for the comment about my poem. I’ve often seen the parallels between the everyday tasks we accomplish and the structure of relationships.
Bread grew from my intuition, literally.
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Passed on. Bread worked well but it should be rising from your intuition.
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wowza – that’s some poem my friend. So many in this world have to settle for moldy crumbs. Your poem transcends the nuclear family to the world family.
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Thanks, Judy. I try to see the whole world in a microcosm, or a detail in the universe. Just another way of turning the snow globe. Glad you liked my poem.
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