That handle pulled a thousand times
Stands witness to my family life.
The meals prepared in love and haste,
The ladle-full and too-sharpe knife.
The open drawer yields up its gifts
To render alchemy divine.
I cook to feed my soul with thrift
and nurture hope with opened wine.
The Pyrex bowls that wait at hand
For items mixed in many ways;
The cooling pie that's left to stand
And crafty tricks for grand displays.
That handle shares my life with me;
The passport to my cookery!
August 2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very lovely ode to a woman's friend in the kitchen. Beautifully crafted write.