Breaking bread

He buys the bread, she makes the soup,
they sit with wine and ale,
tomatoes from the greenhouse
and cheese just ripe, it runs.

Afterwards he'll take a chair
and settle down with sigh.
She'll clear the table, stack the plates,
the same routine each day.

Years ago they used to laugh,
she danced within his arms;
these days he has lumbago
and the kids have all left home.

Today, he finds a letter
unstamped and propped beside.
The cheese is hard and soup unmade
she's packed and gone away.





Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 660 times
Written on 2007-11-20 at 18:38

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Kathy Lockhart
Sometimes one can only take so much of the norm. And, then its time to move on to find other adventures and realities. Again you create such stories that one hates for them to end. xx
2007-11-22


Reeti Roy
you've painted such a pretty picture of domesticity..*sigh*
2007-11-21


lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
Elle a very hard to the knuckle poem and one every man who has brow beaten a woman should read this is so powerful rgds Mike
2007-11-20