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After Sunday Worship Dinner

Standing at the threshold
A reddish ball of fire sets
Brandishing the eastern sky
Peering through my bedroom window
The warmth of heaven falls on my upturned face
On this quiet Sunday afternoon

Dinner is almost done
Corn on the cob boiling on the stove
Topped with one teaspoon butter
Macaroni and ribs kept warm in the oven
As we wait for heavenly brown rice to be cooked
No one wants to drive and get some since we're out

I guess we'll be eating mash potatoes
While blinding light from heaven drops behind treetops
The full moon is still seen on the sunny horizon
And a special sermon was heard all around the globe once again

Editing stage: 

Comments

It should almost be called that Barbara,
my mouth was watering at each line,
I almost ordered a plane to fly me to join you,
but the day has turned to Monday
and Sunday has retired,
but with such a heralding of the night sky
that I saw all this poem's description
as if I was standing next to you,
delicious
and the sudden divinity of night
descending over you
was superb.

Glad you had a good Easter Barbara, love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Glad you liked it. We listened to God's word from1 to 3 o'clock then went home and the kids cooked dinner while I rest. All aound nice day.

*Collaborative Poetry Workshop* American Version of Japanese Poetry ~ Renga ~ Haiku, Senyru, Tanka. All Neopoets welcome to join the Collaborative Poetry Writing Workshop.
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"Standing at the treshold......tHreshold I suppose you mean?

A reddish ball of fire sets
Brandishing the eastern sky" ...this bit i love.

Are you sure it wasn't brown beans? As I met someone with a huge Billy-can of brown beans, and she got the can through the Danish customs, that was something, she said they don't get beans like this in Norway, so she left the plane in Norway, her home, carrying the best of foods all the way from Africa(as she was African) to Norway in the provinces. I found that amusing.

We had been stranded, a plane in Manchester England, was not good, so they sent a plane all the way from Denmark to fetch us, giving us a wine dinner on the house while we waited; then we stayed the night in the SAS hotel (the only time I shall probably ever set foot in such) and went on in the morning. She must have come from Africa to Manchester- Quite a journey, with a can of beans.

But then, yours was rice, bother. That brown rice sounds nice. We sometimes use brown flour, or Buckwheat flour for making brown pancakes, num num, like the French in Bretagne.

Happy that yo had a happy day. Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

I made the change. Glad you like it

*Collaborative Poetry Workshop* American Version of Japanese Poetry ~ Renga ~ Haiku, Senyru, Tanka. All Neopoets welcome to join the Collaborative Poetry Writing Workshop.
https://pixiblogs.blacpixi.com/

author comment
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