It was a pleasant evening
I was there at your home
You had invited me for dinner
The kitchen was in the corner of the drawing room
While you were preparing the food
We talked about the American election
Trump was your favorite
You believed he would be nominated
I was not interested in politics
So I kept listening to you quietly
You put the food on the dining table
We finished and then had two pegs of Sherry, the wine you love
I praised your delicious food
And getting up
I said, Pack me up the leftover food
You asked, Why, don't you cook food at your home?
I replied, Yes, we do
But it is not made by your hands.
You just smiled.
#Jannejahandramavibes
About the Creator
Fly Alone
Hello! I am a poet and writer. I write whatever comes in my mind.
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Second Tuesday of November
No one knew how the event really started. Between a few beverages at the bar, maybe? Notes passed carefully on the street? Or, perhaps a secret meetup at early hours of the day? Whatever the root source was, we were here now on the second Tuesday of November. Nervous, but also absorbed by the allure.
By Elizabeth Petit3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Hello Vocal community! I am a writer, and you can contact me for all types of writing at: [email protected] Writing is not only my passion but also my profession, as it is my sole focus. Your engagements and support would mean a lot to me. Thank you and best regards!
Aww! Sweet. Curious about the hashtag, though.
"But it's not made by your hands". That was so sweet! Loved your poem!