grated and rolled

by Kristina Woodhill

the flowers really are pretty
shades of dyed daisy purples
and bright carnation pinks
set against the backdrop of
the sedate corner burgundy cabinet
the vase centered carefully
on the lovely hand quilted square
adorning the small oak table

but when it comes down to it
I keep thinking of Paula Dean
grating me like semi-sweet chocolate
into a deep shiny smooth bowl
pouring your rich hot white cream
over every itty bitty piece of me
her southern magic whisk
melding us gently together

a chemical amalgam
a liquid + solid with no equal
rolled into a ball of truffled perfection

on the verge of a melting tongue


Posted on 02/13/2008
Copyright © 2021 Kristina Woodhill

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 02/13/08 at 10:24 PM

There is something quite pleasing, even aromatic and tasty here. Between the colors of flowers the table and your "melt-down" into a virtual gastronomy. Wonderful confection this. It maybe the first poem to need a napkin! Thanks.

Posted by Charlie Morgan on 02/13/08 at 10:42 PM

...kristina, ah ditto what gregory said and i absolute love the "drawn" picture of the room/casa/sala/vase/fleurs and the cute bordering on gorgeous oak table, too much...peace, chaz

Posted by Tony Whitaker on 02/13/08 at 11:41 PM

Man, talk about flow. This one is as smooth as goat lips. Wow! I read this one three times and it is just soothing to say.

Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 02/14/08 at 01:14 AM

Ha! Delicious. Next time, maybe throw in a "stick a' buttah" and see what happens!

Posted by George Hoerner on 02/14/08 at 11:12 PM

You've got watch those southern belles! They know how to get the most out of what they bake. Nicely done!

Posted by Charles M Harrison on 02/15/08 at 10:57 AM

A feast for the heart. Very nice very sensual.

Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/15/08 at 01:47 PM

Senusous and sensual! Great write as usual!

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