Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Poem Prompt: Mistake

The following poem was written via a prompt from Poetic Asides with Robert Lee Brewer, "write a mistake poem."

By Nordette N. Adams

The kitchen floor is a little gritty.
She'll sweep later, after the magic's done,
and her favorite show's ended, when the house
smells like shimmering Sunday mornings,
and love's risen in the old oven.

Three cups of sweetness and as much flour
as written in her mother's hand.
Two sticks real butter to pop vanilla
as dreaminess hits the tongue. Plus salt!
eggs, the milk, the shortening that
wards off dryness.

For the son, the wily one, young and busy on a Wii,
forgetting how he hid his afternoon clumsiness
with a rush of Morton's in the sugar jar.

She didn't test the batter.
Trouble in the house tonight.

(c) 2009 Nordette N. Adams


lilalia said...

The poem has shadows and sunlight. When I read the line "love's risen in the old oven", my grandmother's kitchen flashed before my eyes. She is the last of us who baked everything from shortbread cookies to lemon meringue pies. Those were indescribably smells of sweet love. The proceeding generations have been cooks and not bakers. Good smells, but not heavenly like my grandmother's were.

le0pard13 said...

This is one of things I most look forward to - reading one your poems, Nordette. Thanks for this.