I Ate the Sun with Some Nuts

She wants Sunshine. It’s rather simple, she says. Feed me poetry or prose that dances wildly with the sun. Be literal… or metaphor your words away until sunshine is orange juice. I’m open, she says… just give me sunshine. All right, maybe Sanaa didn’t use those exact words… but that’s how my eyeballs read it to my heart. So here is my contribution to Prompt Nights – Sunshine (I decided to devour the sun and make myself shinier… and probably yummier 😉 4/15/16):

“I Ate the Sun with Some Nuts”

I slow cooked the sun,
stirred some nuts into the pot—
hot buttery yum
.

If a spring breeze kisses my skin
with susurrations of chill,
one pound of butternut squash
(boiled in three cups of salty broth
for twenty-one minutes)
will fill my middle with sunlight.

Cheddar and milk
might thicken the warmth,
but my gut growls at the thought.

I just blend the softened sun,
and pour the liquid gold into a pot,
to keep hot while I roast nuts…

pestle and mortar crush pecans.

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 20 – Finger Licking Good: Cook up a poem with a recipe in it.

Who would have thought that Butternut Squash Soup with Roasted Pecans could be so poetic? I’m telling you, my Wicked Luvs, write a poem a day in April and eat poetry…

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Butternut Squash Soup with Roasted Pecans (2)
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Butternut Squash Soup with Roasted Pecans (4)
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Finger Licking Good

I love cooking. There is something thrilling in the ritualistic act of gathering the right ingredients and mixing them together properly, in order to transform raw energy into something tasty that brings delight into the eyes (and tummies) of those I love. Well, if I’m to be honest, I rather enjoy eating my own food… understandable, since I love myself a lot.

But more than that, I find bliss in the smiles that brighten my Piano Man’s and The Boy’s faces whenever they get home and the scent of my food is dancing in the air… Few things make me as happy, as when we’re sitting at the table and the Little Princess pulls on my sleeve, rubs her tummy, widens her eyes, and makes exaggerated yummy sounds.

For all those reasons, I’m super excited about today’s prompt: Day 20, of NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, invites everyone to Cook up a poem with a recipe in it. Because not everyone feels like I do about cooking finger licking good bits, feel free to stretch the prompt to add other people’s recipes for foods you love (just make sure you credit the chef).

Instructions

* Leave a link to your poem, as a comment. Include the title of your entry, and the direct link to your post. Example: “NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015”: http://magalyguerrero.com/napowrimo-with-magaly-guerrero-2015/. Visit other Wicked Darlings and comment on their yum. They might visit you (it’s polite).

* If you use this prompt, please link it to your post. And if you are feeling extra delicious, link your poem to the main entry. Show others where to go. Spread the word. Linking back to the source will make everything you cook taste better. Really.

Brewing Coconut Oil (1)click on the image for my Brewing Coconut Oil recipe (butcher knife not included)

Would You Sprout for Me?

“If I tell you that I love you,
that I built your crib of soil
and have been breathing soul on you,
would you sprout for me?”

I absorbed her given breath,
but held on to my seed coat
the Witch picked me without asking.

“You were our honeymoon baby.
I approached your mother tree,
gave her three scarlet drops and a soul kiss,
before introducing you to my Heart’s music
and bringing you across the sea;

if I show you that I love you,
would you sprout for me?”

I wasn’t forgetting her rude plucking;
but the Witch kept me
nice and moist,
set in the perfect warmth of darkness.
Something inside me began to push…

When I first cracked testa
to show green,
my Witch howled tender breaths
and shook my soil
with the tapping of her feet;

I sprouted for her… just a bit.

Process Note (not on steroids): during our honeymoon, my Piano Man and I ran into a níspero tree heavy with fruit. I hadn’t tasted that kind of yum in over 20 years. I picked a few nísperos, shared them with my love, and saved the seeds. I lost all the seeds but one. The day it sprouted, I nearly lost my mind with delight.

This is what Little Nisp looked like last spring
Nispero Seedling (3)

…his germination photos (yes, I’m sure he’s a boy *cough*)…
Nispero Seedling (1)

…after he sprouted, I reconstructed his seed…
Nispero Seedling (2)

…and here is the big boy one year after he cracked through his coat seed.
Nispero Seedling (4)

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 19 – I, Tree: Summon the green within, and write a poem from the point of view of a sentient tree who gets to address his or her keeper. (Um… my entry might have stretched the prompt, “just a bit”, when it comes to perspective and point of view *cough, cough* I need to do something about this— *cough*)

linked to
Poets United, Poetry Pantry 248