AN ARTISAN
Indoors she bakes and smells arise:
hot and tasty tarts and pies.
Outside she stands beside the gate
selling wares until quite late.
Back and forth all day she totters
on her Cornish pasty trotters.
- Author: Michael Edwards ( Offline)
- Published: February 2nd, 2021 02:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 63
- Users favorite of this poem: Jerry Reynolds
Comments8
Sorry Michael you cannot make Cornish pasties where you live, they must be called Leicester Pasties.
Whatever they are called though I'll come buy and purchase some.
Andy
They are very hard wearing - thanks Andy
Good write M. A pork pie or two also, please. Does Mss B make pork pies?
No but Miss P Soup does.
Been thinking for sometime that if, owing to covid restrictions you ran out of paints and perchance your poetic inspiration deserted you, you could set up a gourmet restaurant (with postal service...)
My wife would be good at that. Her cuisine is to die for - mind you she wouldn't to return to her home land, Burma, for inspiration - well not at the moment with the military snatching command to line their own pockets.
Aah! Getting the picture now - all this talk of food is just that - talk! It's your missus who provides all the tasty dishes you mention - cover blown.
Hard to know what exactly is going on in Myanmar - Burma. Always been a bit of a mystery to outsiders, I think.
Lovely picture.
Great poetry painting a character picture. I feel like I'm reading a classic piece i have known since childhood.
I think youve produced a real gem.
Thanks dusk - yes I imagined her in her pinny (now there's an old word you don't often hear these days) plodding up and down with her trays of mouth watering wares.
your artwork had me thinking of a work I really like, titled 'the chasm of the Colorado' by Thomas Moran (I think),
only yours is more like 'the chasm within a cloud' or a little morosely: 'droplets of ichor, invading our prism of essence',
my simpleton self, would title it as
'a dance of pigment's, self-introductory waves'...
my 2 cent$ worth, thankfully its free, lol
A much larger work than mine LB. As for a title (every picture requires a title to identify it especially when exhibiting) I give these acrylic ink abstracts a one word title - I invent a word which has no meaning. The reason being that I don't want to lead the viewer - its up to the viewer to interpret it as he sees fit. This one's called Remonism.
Love the painting. The poem is fantastic, feels, somehow, like part of the things you know. Good morning read my favorite.
Pleased you like it - thanks for looking in.
Read your poem before breakfast, gotta go, am hungry now!
Trust you're now well sated Fred. I wish there was an artisan like this near me.
Her pasties sound like Galaxy's nebulas. Both awesome.
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