Secret Ingredients

Gospel Isosceles posted a lovely prompt at the dVerse Poets Pub encouraging us to write about a secret ingredient.  I had a hard time thinking of a response because I already have a strange poem I wrote several years ago.   I know it’s cheating to post an old poem, but I’m well aware that poets are forever ready to extend a little license.  My poem has a dark twist – or so I thought until my fellow artist and friend Michelle asked me if she could switch the genders in the poem and read it at Thanksgiving dinner !! And she did.  So maybe my twist is too subtle.  Let me know…


A Morel Tale


Wild mushrooms simmer in sauce

brandy, cream, saffron shallots…

She fills a pork loin with apricot and fig

sliding a thin sharp blade into pale flesh

twisting his knife ninety degrees to form a cross,

stuffing dry fruit toward the center

with the blunt end of a wooden spoon.

Sliced the roast will fall in rows

hearts marked out in juicy black or orange,

pretty bull’s eyes ready for an arrow.

                           morel mushroom

The table sparkles, laid for two

hand-rubbed silver, crystal goblets

frosted blue and glass Italian plates

veined in glowing leaves and holding,

in their clear depths, a purple droop

of delicate wisteria.

           morel mushroom

She gathers morels in the morning

quartering the apple orchard,

fingers thrust down knuckle deep in dirt

to break stems off  beneath the soil.

                                     morel mushroom

Morels can fool you, presenting

false faces to less than careful eyes;

cunning as a woman harboring secrets.

     morel mushroom

She will eat the morels,  so will he.

                            morel mushroom

Later they will lie down together

on crisp sun-scented sheets

with time enough to dream

before the first spasm wakes them.



This entry was posted in dVerse, Eros, Love, Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Secret Ingredients

  1. Oh wow, I would have been extra wary of eating your friend’s feast, as foreboding as it was scrumptious. I love wild mushrooms but have only hunted them a few times. To do so also requires a discerning ear to listen for the happy ones and the dangerous ones. Thanks for this!

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