Momma's Kitchen
As the morning light breaks
over the palms,
Trickling through the open windows
Tickling my soft smile,
As the aroma of toast and butter
wash through the room.
All is quiet, only the morning birds
Left to sing their songs…
A bountiful plate
Of eggs, toast, and bacon
Brought to me by life herself,
With a beautiful smile,
Arms open wide.
Reminding me that Momma’s Kitchen
Smooths away even the most rigid of rocks.
This poem is about:
My family