Shadow of Toil...Shadow Shot Sunday

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...