
A flower of bread brown rolls risen against each other, wooden petals of the deodar And on the stove four glistening pots huddle winter soup's quiet breath Wedges of cheese, yellow and thick the talk over sticky date pudding clustered verbs and violets
what about the cake? 🤣
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ha ha. THat was the sticky date
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This is what I call a cosy poem. Love it.
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Thanks! It was a lovely party!
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The imagery in this is so luxurious–I just want to wade around in it for a while.
“And on the stove
four glistening pots huddle
winter soup’s quiet breath…”
You can’t get much better than this (and it’s very haiku-like, too). Nicely done! 🙂
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Thanks! It felt so cosy and… wholesome.
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That sounds so good! Now the weather is turning cold it’s time for Soup (the rooster) to live up to his name!
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Ha ha. Poor Soup.
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