August 16.20: Coping

Discouragement abounds,

angst, depression, fears;

my pate completely addled,

my brains ooze out my ears.

I feel as though I’m squeezed

by vise of pointless tripe;

innuendo and conspiracy

spring up in endless hype.

And isolation never helped

the cause of sanity;

it gives the upper hand

to crazed inanity.

I look for logic, reason,

a sense of what should be;

I find it in the bakery

in sweet geometry.

 

 

I do not make light, dear reader, of those who have little food. Or none at all. I know how fortunate I am to think about desserts.

 

Many thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

and to the artist-bakers at la Madeleine.

March 20.20

Happiness eludes

like so much airy dust,

but I can capture mine

contemplating proper crust.

With crackly definition

it tells you what’s inside;

before your tooth can crunch

your eye is satisfied.

Kudos to the bakers

who know how to finesse

the yeasty bubbling goo

into happiness.

 

 

More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

for this tribute to happy things

and to la Madeleine, for baking them.

And thanks to blogger Susan Rushton

for yesterday’s heads-up about Happiness Day today.

This is not to make light of our worries,

dear reader,

but sometimes we need to add a little sugar

when the yeast won’t froth.

 

March 6.20

Lusty thump

marks application,

with every stroke

fine syncopation,

wood on dough,

performance art,

percussive beat

of kitchen heart,

stretching, tugging,

this way, that,

persuading yeast

or flour and fat

to peasant noodle,

earthy, chewy,

or frail cream puff,

flaky, gooey.

In maestro’s hands

a nimble trill,

here on the wall

lumpish, still.

But regard with respect

the two-handled bole:

even inert

it’s ready to roll.

 

 

More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

and to la Madeleine, Fairfax County, VA.