Mouthing, mumbling, indistinct;
without preamble.
Muttering over supper plates
supplying standard fare.
Staple teaspoons of fruity,
saucy, scandals, falls;
tittle-tattle between bites,
bringing platitudes to play.
Perhaps we’ll pause for pudding
and permit the taste to linger
longer on the palate.
Pet lapdog’s ever ready
and waiting on the bed
with wordy dreams of toast.
©Cindy Taylor 2008


10 Comments Add yours

  1. buttercup600 says:

    Awwww…can I be part of that????? Will settle for the pudding….needed on the plate!! At last I’m logged into wordpress!!! Hugggggggggs to Diski!! Baie liefdetjies maatijie oxoxoxx

    1. theonlycin says:

      Eendag gaan ek en jy by my kombuistafel sit, ek weet dit!

  2. adeeyoyo says:

    I just LOVE this post, Cindy! 🙂

    1. theonlycin says:

      Thank you adee 🙂

  3. nrhatch says:

    Perfectly put!
    Hunger limits preamble. : )

  4. Lawrence C says:

    Ah, the sensuality and concupiscence of food! A lot of fun to read.

    Thank you for the video comment. It made me smile.

    I also like Holly Cole’s version – it has the darkness still creeping behind it, and I love the bittersweet sense of challenge in her key change after 3:00 minutes

  5. slpmartin says:

    Such a playful poem…such joy over morning coffee…I feel like I’ve attend a few of those meals. 😉

  6. Kavita says:

    wwooowww… puddingggg… I am a very slow eater.. but when it comes to desserts, I am especially slow…just so as to relish each and ever spoonful of it… 🙂
    A meal, like you described is a an entire of activity… the conversation, the sensations, emotions, phew! The entire package!! 🙂

  7. Tammy McLeod says:

    So happy to see the olives there! I really like your method of poetry and food. They are such a complement.

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