The smell of a memory
floats in on the breeze;
jogs the senses
pretty as you please.
From another time and place,
delicious memories of Mom's kitchen
reach across time with warm embrace
to hug my soul.
Heaven's own feast, her fried apple pies
and worthy of all the oohs and ahhs;
always a special family delight
a treasured and tasty surprise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bursting with a beauty that can cause a full traveler to take another bite. Well done my friend!