Seeing

Octpowrim0 27 is all about seeing, and wants us to write in detail about what we see at this moment.  This prompt has resulted in a bit of a rambling free-write, but at least it’s truthful.

Seeing

I see the bread proving,
impatient to taste it  dripping with butter.
I see a big stack of Welsh cakes in advance of hungry hordes,
perfuming the house with cinnamon.
A giant cast iron pot full of chicken.
Sweet and savory aromas make me drool.

I see a room full of creativity –
my cooking, my paintings, my patchwork, lace mats.
Jock’s sturdy oak furniture with tapestry backs
his pastel portraits and embroidered people,
camels, birds in flight, sheep.

I see his work-in-progress  and mine,
but he, like the piano, is asleep.
A jumble of ornaments, photos, our children and their children –
more of our makes.
tottering piles of books,
a vase of Kupa’s  all-seeing tail feathers received yesterday
from my farmy friend Celie in Illinois

I see brief sunlight, gilding the garden, melting the hailstones
lightening  the late October gloom.

I feel contentment, despite the aching back.

I hear Handel on the radio, the shush of a page turning when Jock wakes,
the perpetual ringing in my head
and the insistent buzz of the timer calling me to tend the bread.

 More pictures of quilts and embroideries can be found in the header bar above.