Wednesday, 29 October 2008

On Cake

Like a beckoning whisper
the fragrance teases me.
The ghost of another's satisfaction
and I am jealous.
I glance over the bright packs of infusions
on the shelf,
none suggest such a rich and pungent experience.
I see the cake:
Soft, dark, thickly-sliced,
Plump currants glisten like jewels.
Placed on a cobalt edged plate.
Four pieces: one for each guest:
Assurance that one is for me.
Delight in discovery,
the smell: not a memory but an invitation.
Can earth show more grace than fresh-baked cake
brought at four o'clock?
Warm and moist, sweet and spicy.
A gift I will let my lips and my heart receive.

2 comments:

Richard said...

Great to read a first poem on here. I look forward to reading about more of your favourite topics, or perhaps this is the first of a series of elegies to one of your favourite things!!

Kathy Grubb said...

Oh, yes, I think you are an art person!

This was lovely and made me hungry!