Nourishment

 

When I need some nourishment

I take all the wild words I can find

and I dice them finely,

Until I finally have a bowl

of bite-sized pieces.

Little shavings of a story,

shards of a mystery,

Fragments of love,

and a craving to see

where the flavour takes me.

All these finely sliced pieces

I gently toss in freshly scented flowers.

Then I set fire to my kindling heart

and wait until the flames roar.

 

And I can start to really cook

a specialty, a meal fit for you and me.

I ignore cookbooks,

I don’t look at recipes

I let the words speak for themselves.

I cast them into the fires of hell.

These voyagers of poetry.

In their cast iron boat.

Whilst I dance around,

like a conductor

orchestrating the beat.

There is an art to this,

learnt over years,

many plates drowned

under countless tears.

But now that I’m smiling.

I execute each part

with precision timing.

 

Sautéing in the heat,

I let them sweat,

searing the expression,

until it is golden,

I add flourishes,

herby verbs to add action,

nourishing nouns

to give some body,

then I sprinkle in

adjectives to add to the flavour.

A bouquet of scents arise,

but this meal is not nearly ready,

it needs a little spice.

 

I need to add some

seasoning similes,

meaty metaphors.

before adding

some flavoursome stock,

and bringing to a boil.

Then lowering the heat

till it’s a gently simmering pot,

letting all of the component

parts become one, and I let it stew.

 

It’s not yet ready

to serve up to you,

it needs to be fine-tuned,

refined in the last moments,

as this is a meal of love

and it takes time to bring

the best out of it,

to make every mouthful perfect.

To make every taste a little piece of heaven,

But until then I sit

weaving more words in my head

and I let my thoughts unwind,

to untangle the threads for dessert.