A dish's aroma, a savory tale.
Its flavors dance, never frail.
Tender as butter, sweet as a dream.
Food's delight, a joyous stream.
A meal well-made, a heart's embrace.
A small bite, a smile upon the face.
Gooey cheese, a golden crown.
Ripe fruit, sweetness to astound."
Food memories, tales of old.
Flavors shared, worth more than gold.
Pie like autumn, pasta like a hug.
Foods delight, like an old friend snug.
The proof of the pudding is in the eating.
Always a good meal, ought to begin with hunger.
Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.
All of a sudden, the cook made my day.
About the Creator
Patrick Etyang
I am a top writer and invite readers to embark on my remarkable experiences through my writing. Immerse yourself in the depths of human experience with everything from heartbreaking drama to spine-tingling thrills.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Patrick Etyang and writers in Poets and other communities.
I First Saw Him
When I first saw him sitting on the wall, relaxed and looking out over the water, I was sure he wasn't a local. Not including children, there are only about 250 or 300 of us in this area full-time, though that number is ten-fold in the summer, and I know everyone at least by sight or by family resemblance. And yet, the way he sat looked familiar and started my mind sorting and discarding among the families I knew, not quite like this one, not quite like that one.
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Mmmm, your cover photo made me hungry! Loved your poem!