My Mother, The Cook

Magic in her fingertips

You have magic in your fingertips. Your food tastes divine. A little bit of heaven when I taste food so fine. Fingers licked. Plates clean. The memory is so alive, as if it was true today. But alas, my mother dear, no one compares to the person and the fabulous cook you were. I thank you for those delicious meals. Those delicious memories of you and of all the times we sat around the table, eating and talking as we ate up all the food. Those lip-smacking, finger-licking dishes, moreish until the end. Oh, mother dear, those memories will be forever alive, because I think of you every time I begin to cook.

©Kiran Kumar 30th July 2021 Thank you for reading my poetry🙏

Thank you Genius in a Bottle for publishing my work. 🙏