As a room apart,this world of mayhem
steps not into this pantry.
A room of orderly chaos,
simple necessity abounds...
tater smashers
and griddles
and queen of the cache,
the ol' butcher knife
and cleaver to slice...
all standing sentinel
and ready to pace.
As dialogs of wit
and gossip to share,
report current events
of news from afar,
well, the farm 'cross the glen...
well, as the crow flies,
each tells the tale
as I work through the day...
not the laborer scorned,
but the the Mother of faith,
soul of the hearth,
the keeper of calm.
I lean toward the man
of the union,
the mate,
the keeper of peace
the rock of my strength.
This fragile realm of soft kisses
and touch,
meeting hands rough
'gainst frail hopeful brow.
Your strengths, my companion,
are my strengths, as well,
in this room in this hearth,
this room that is family...
this room that is faith.
Shadow Shot Sunday is upon us again, check out Hey, Harriet and catch all the other shadows...there's some neat stuff over there, join us won't you...
