Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #324
Her Pecan Pie
by Belinda Roddie
Her pecan pie was crisp, sweet, and divine -
it practically melted in my mouth,
and as I polished off the bite with wine
and smiled at her, I was left with no doubt
of her baking expertise. As the plates
were cleared, I sat with her on the divan,
and she spoke at great length about debates
regarding Thanksgiving's history. Plans
to woo her slipped away, and all I had
was the delightful taste of pecan on
my tongue. I chose to help my mom and dad
with dishes. Washing took an hour long,
so once I was done, she had left with my
cousin, whom she would marry. Time to die.
by Belinda Roddie
Her pecan pie was crisp, sweet, and divine -
it practically melted in my mouth,
and as I polished off the bite with wine
and smiled at her, I was left with no doubt
of her baking expertise. As the plates
were cleared, I sat with her on the divan,
and she spoke at great length about debates
regarding Thanksgiving's history. Plans
to woo her slipped away, and all I had
was the delightful taste of pecan on
my tongue. I chose to help my mom and dad
with dishes. Washing took an hour long,
so once I was done, she had left with my
cousin, whom she would marry. Time to die.
Comments
Post a Comment