Innocence Of The Bread Maker.

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Blog Post About This Poem – Read This Before Reading The Poem.

Salt and yeast in warm water mixed,
Then flour added and brought to a wet mix,
Rested in the warmth of room from noon,
Till sun to the western horizon, moved
As dime-romance made the gypsy lady smile.

The touch of her with dry flour made the dough smile,
Those pretty fingers rolling the dough in a cookie sheet,
Then heated dutch-oven kept a safe guard in the oven,
The raising bread spread the scent of purity all around,
With it spread the blessing she is and her touch of love.

The memory of mine oh’ remembered her smile,
When we ate those bread dipped in fresh warm milk,
Ah’ I remembered my innocence and my eagerness,
To touch that warm bread and to see that gypsy smile,
But my memory still feels comfort in her touch of innocence.

Decades passed, and a century, a millennium birthed,
Oh’ when I wrap my love for a darling girl in purity,
In my soul I churn and forge the deep felt love,
Ah’ the last bit of magic to my love I can add,
Is the innocence I learned from that gypsy lady.

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Photo by Davi Moreira on Unsplash

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