Saturday March 25th, 2017

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: bread.

Hectic, crazy start to the morning at the bakery. Things settled down by 11 and then got pretty quiet for the rest of the day, leaving me with lots of cinnamon buns to put in the freezer, along with three loaves, and bits of most everything else.

Looking forward to taking things a little easier tomorrow.


Such comforting warmth
On a grey, cloudy day;
Smell wafts from the kitchen
And worries go away


Greg said...

Cinnamon buns freeze well don't they? Sounds like the clean-up was almost as much work as the selling today though!
Your poem reminds me of when I'm baking bread, though I'm not sure it exactly chases worries away... it just makes me keen to get the bread from the oven and taste it!

There's a likely lad with his pockets full of bread,
He says he's going to feed a duck.
But that bread is cash and his gun's full of lead,
'Cos he really don't give a *BANG*

Marc said...

Greg - yeah they do, I just had to take the cream cheese icing off them first (which is the annoying part).

Hah, true. Beware of burning your mouth due to lack of patience for the cooling period :)

Love the rhythm and attitude of yours. You really captured the essence of your likely lad, me thinks.