Defining Mama (One)
- Mama at The Sink
Defining Mama (One)
…by the warmth of a cheek
melting onto your waking face
tearless and loving ― during
an early morning embrace.
…by the smell of her cookies.
..by the size of her butt
leaning over a sink ― scrubbing
insecticide off a carrot.
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Hear this
on chirbit
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This was posted for Monday Morning Writing Prompt–Comfort Food .
Also posted on:
#324 – Parent
I chose this poem because there is nothing for comfort food like mama’s cookies, and carrots are a whole other genre of comfort food. I wrote this back in the early 90’s but changed it a bit recently.
Photo Credit: Bat-Ami Gordin © 2011 all rights reserved, credit if you use it, please.
Posted on October 10, 2011, in http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/, Monday Morning Writing Prompt, Poetry and tagged carrots, comfort food, cookies, embrace, insecticide, mama, monday morning writing prompt, parent, parent poetry, poetry promps, scrubbing, sunday scribblings, Writing Prompts. Bookmark the permalink. 19 Comments.
Verification wastes my time, and often doesn't work. I am going to stop commenting on pages that require verification one of these days.
ZONGRIK 
I just love this. Nothing like food seasoned with a mother’s love.
What a nice tribute to your mother…and her love.
Thank you so much…very heart warming.
I could feel the love.
☮ Siggi in Downeast Maine
It’s not a tribute to my mother at all. My mother never baked a cookie in her life. It’s really about me and my kids loving my cookies. It’s more fun to make the cookies with them. One time, I was visiting my GF from HS and it was just before Christmas, she lived upstate NY, and I was going to get on a plane the next day, to go back to Seattle, and she and I made cookies together.
It’s like my ADHD poem which people think is about me having patience for some kid, and it’s about me not having patience because I have ADHD, worse than my kids do!!
Thanks for the update on my misunderstanding…When I read you post, I was thinking how different your mother was than mine…
I am so sorry that I keep misunderstanding what you write…patience is not one of my virtues, and my mother had less than I do.
I thought that was a photo of your mother at the sink, that is where my mother would have been…and I would have been severely chastised for posting a photo of her back too.
Please, keep me straight when I make an error like this. I admire your candor in straightening out my misunderstandings.
☮ Siggi in Downeast Maine
My mother spends a lot of time at the sink, and this could be typical shot of her. But it’s not her, it’s someone who posed for me so I could have this shot. It’s exactly the pose I want to go with the poem, and it was so good that it fooled you into thinking it’s my mother. 🙂
I loved this poem, lol!!! Reminds me of my mom or one of her many sisters. Nice job Zonrik! Blessings, Terri
LOL! I just read your reponse after leaving my comment. That makes it even funnier 🙂 ha-ha.
Scrubbing of carrots…. wow, you have captured love in action! Great piece.
Clever girl, you had us all fooled! Nice poem, good thoughts.
There’s nothing to beat the smell of home-made cookies … (not that it happens in my house, I’m not a person who bakes … my sister is the family baker and her kitchen always smells delicious)
My entry at http://writer-in-transit.co.za/loaves-4-u/
Mama’s home cooked anything spelled comfort.
Very nice,
Isadora
my entry to Victoria’s MMWP:
http://insidethemindofisadora.wordpress.com/2011/06/23/gourmet-cuisine-to-fill-every-hunger/
you leave me with smiles…mama holds a special place in my heart and you evoke it well in your words…what is this i write science and not you tonight..ha…
this is not the poem i posted on dverse, this was posted on Victoria’s Monday Morning Writing Prompt. My poem for dverse, today was https://zongrik.wordpress.com/2011/04/29/65/ which is about a phenomena that rarely occurs around the moon.
That’s the way many of us remember our mothers–at the sink or at least in the kitchen–making food to comfort her family.
I love your charming poem, Bat-Ami!
Oh my mother would have had a heart attack if she ever saw me eating a fruit or vegetable without scrubbing it first! Your poem is definitely how I wold describe Mama!
I love this and what it says about your mom. The size of her butt made me smile. I think my kids would say they remembered that about me if they had your gift for words. 🙂
It’s wonderful…and that feeling gives you so much security and comfort…..now away from my mom I realize it more…
Great little ditty, gotta love “…by the size of her butt” ’cause it generally works across the board : D
LOVE this, Tammy! thanks for the smile! ♥