Made With Love
Name Your Poison
Daddy, may I please have more
coin sized pancakes and can I pour
That homemade maple syrup
the neighbor made, letting us help
And if you’re frying any more
could you make some potatoes and corn
Into those fritters we adore
until I can’t eat anymore
Because no one makes them like you do
it’s now become my favorite food
They’re made with love, by daddy's hands
answering his baby girls commands
And if by chance, there’s something left
I’ll dab the remnants up myself
I’ll help put the dishes on the shelf
saving memories of how happy smelled
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Compelling and original writing
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Niche topic & fresh perspectives
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Writing reflected the title & theme
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After a long day in the department, Emily dropped her worn and tired dark leather bag on the counter before navigating through the small and disordered kitchen to grab a cold beer from a contrarily empty fridge. She hadn't had a chance to unpack since moving from Newcastle to Glasgow, let alone shop for sustenance, except for cold brews naturally.
By Billie Whytea day ago in Chapters
Comments (9)
I love it! BEST! 😊💯❤️
That last line hit me so hard 🥺 Loved your poem!
love!!!
Mmmm, pancakes. Corn & potato fritters I met only later, but they're good, too. Tasty memories.
"saving memories of how happy smelled" aww I hope my kids will think this way also later on.. I really feel like cooking for them and creating tasty memories like this too. I loved loved your poem! So relatable!
Beautiful, the bonding of a father and daughter over a yummy pancake snack 🥰
This made me so emotional 🥹
Got my taste bud going oh yeah - now i want pikelets!
Yummy 😋♥️♥️