IN PRAISE OF SLOW COOKING (for De and Justin Jackson)
Lex minces garlic
and chops onion on a small cutting board
We love the sound of the knife
thunking the wood.
I brown the chicken in olive oil,
nudging the cutlets, easing in
a bit of broth after the first turn,
poaching with herbs from my potted garden,
a splurch of wine, a pinch of pepper.
Now we divvy veggie duty:
He, the mushroom expert,
peels, washes, slices thin
with a knife we wish was
up to the quality of our endeavor.
I’m the Carrot Queen, the
Broccoli Barlow Baby.
Rice is already on,
scented with saffron.
Whatever the meal, we cook
together. Slowly.
We need only the kitchen,
time, talk, and the bumping of butts
as we faux-fight over space.
Cooking is only half the fun.
Then comes enjoying
a slow-cooked meal
with family and friends.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sunday Scribblings asked us to write on the theme, ‘Friction.’ You can tell I’ve had too much coffee today. Enjoy!
FILM FILLY’S FRACTIOUS FRICTION
Feeling friendly,
phoned Fiona Fleshpot.
Faded fashion filly
facing failed flick – fetid flop.
FLASH! (flotsam for females)
fancied former, firmer,
flexible, “fine” Fiona.
Furnished factoids.
Fix festivities.
Fry fast foods…
fling fresh fare
(fodder for former fatties).
Flaming flambes,
frozen Frangipani,
Früzen-Gladje,
fudgy fondues.
Fiona feels friction falter;
feeds fairly fully…
finally, farts.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
We were asked to think about the word Imagine in all its guises. This is the first of two.
DAY OF SILENCE (Writer’s Island, Imagine)
If a single day
could be set aside
for silence
For contemplations
No TV, no radio
no voices
Expressing ourselves only
with our faces and eyes
Opening our souls
Experiencing neighbors, friends
without the burden of words
Our eyes alone would speak
A day for books
for walks, to listen as Nature
had her say
A true Sabbath
One day set aside to remember
who we are to one another
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore, Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 