Thoughts arise of home-baked bread
Set on hearthen coals bright red
Grain hulled on the threshing-floor
Coarse hands forming loaves of yore
Embers playful in quick flight
Whittled twigs shed glowing light
Hut now warm, its ceiling black
Worn dark coats hung on a rack
Somewhere in lost childhood's fog
Barnyard swallows swoop by logs
On a languid summer morn
Lilacs back-door stairs adorn
Thick white curds and oats ground fine
Little ones in patient line
Waiting for a longed for treat
Mother offers 'time to eat.'
Memories of those faded scenes
Now arise as old age leans
Strong and heavy on my bones
Easing loneliness and groans
Baking bread this afternoon
I recall harsh winds of doom
Tearing us from land and kin
Wiping out what might have been
Yet, like rising of fresh bread
Long lost memories soften dread
As I summon up those days
Plain and simple country ways
There's a gift in home-baked bread
Eaten after prayers are said
Fragrant slices warm and soft
Keeping love and dreams aloft.
There's a gift in home-baked bread Eaten after prayers are said Fragrant slices warm and soft Keeping love and dreams aloft. Verily, such memories are a treasure that give immense pleasure....10 I invite you to read my poems
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Scanning through lists of poems I spotted yours, I'm so glad I did, so gifted, such a beautiful piece, 'lilacs back-door stairs adorn', ' lost childhood's fog' beautiful cherished memories!