24 poems, “The Dinner Party”

Dinner Day: Prelude to the Guests

 

Gladly, the pie has set

and the soups are sleeping

and the exotic spices

are temporarily sleeping

 

first the canapes

in their moody forethought

Then the tagine

a wonderful display, I thought

 

sizzling crackling

and red-hot cast iron pans

a nose-happy bouquet

the odour, the room it pans

 

The goulash slowly simmers

and so too does my excite

all these delicacies in a row

giggling in their anticipation to excite

 

the salads are the final

for the essentially of freshness

textures of sponge and crunch

As I prepare for my own garlicky freshness

DeaBeePea  6-27-20