The Art of Baking
The house is quiet, all are sleeping still
Content to dream, and wait for morning's light
No one feels hunger, but I'm sure they will
And so I prep the kitchen while it's night.
At first the flour, yeast, and soda mix
And then the eggs, the milk, the oil go in;
The stirring is a chore--it's almost six
The kids are will be up soon, my littler kin.
The pans are oiled, ready for the dough
But it must rise first, so I wait and wait
Until it's perfect, patted, formed just so
And in it goes, to meet its tasty fate.
Within the hour the bread comes out to meet
My family, who all slice it up to eat.
Happy baking/writing, everybody.
Very good... and no, I am not familiar with the sonnet form, but you made it make sense.
ReplyDeletesounds like your family had some good eatin' when they woke. great use of the form. have a wonderful day.
ReplyDeleteA couplet on sonnets:
ReplyDeleteShakespeare was born in Stratford, far away from Aberdeen;
To identify his sonnets, just count to 12. I mean 14.
Is that Iambic foot thing correctable with surgery? Or does it take a special made pair of shoes? Is it something that needs correction in a hurry? If you wait a while is it going to get so pentatonic your toes start singing the blues?
ReplyDeleteJeff, it's actually easier than you might think. English tends to follow an iambic pattern anyway, so it's the easiest meter to use in the English language. It would be even easier if I knew Italian and could write in that instead. Rhyming would also become a piece of cake, so to speak.
ReplyDeleteNaquility, you're right. I made butter biscuits, and they adored them. My husband even stopped me later that day and thanked me--said they were really delicious. I didn't show him the poem, though.
Cute couplet, Relax Max! Apparently you do write poetry.
Walking Man, I'm sorry to tell you that an iambic foot will get you nowhere near to singing the blues. You'd need an anapestic foot for that (unstressed, unstressed, stressed), and those aren't so easy to catch.
Cool so I don't have to sing the blues over this sore on my diabetic foot? Because none of it made any sense to me previously.
ReplyDeleteI love the smell of fresh baked bread in the morning.
ReplyDeleteI do not love getting up in time to produce said bread.