I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

7 November 2016

Cooking Up a Storm, er, Form

There was something about the dizain,
It suited me down to the ground. 
It is not the case with the trimeric.
(I keep wanting to call it turmeric.)

It suited me down to the ground,
the dizain. But the trimeric puts me in mind
of ground-up spices – or, I suppose, ground down.

It is not the case with the trimeric
that my mind rises lightly to the challenge 
like a perfect syllabub. (Syllables are not to be thought of.)

I keep wanting to call it turmeric,
and to take ship for the spice realms
to acquire more flavour, or even a whole new recipe.

3 comments:

  1. Hahaha! My favorite is "ground-up spices – or, I suppose, ground down."

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  2. I love wanting to call it turmeric..........LOL.

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  3. "Syllabub"! What a perfectly spectacular word. And it looks quite delicious; I just came across a delectable picture of some.

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