Sunday, December 22, 2013


Madonna With the Milk Soup, 1510, Gerard David

The orchestration that captures me
is composed on album covers,

scribbled at night in the margins of cookbooks,
moonless on junk mail.

Steamy bowls wait in the windowsill
until morning, when they have cooled

enough to be spooned and sipped,
the tang that comes with my heightening.

The ladle is filled to overflowing;
take care with rustling, everything might spill.

You have something of mine, maestro
the close rhythm of this sigh.

tk/December 2013

A delicious read by R.A.D. Stainforth...


  1. particularly luv the ending

    Happy Holidays;
    Please stop by my blog Dec 25th - Jan 5th for 'The Twelve Days of Christmas' : 6th year celebration

    much love...

  2. The voice inflection of Mr. Stainforth is wonderful when he says 'maestro.' ... The poem is quite delicious too.

  3. `the tang that comes with my heightening.' - add another dimension to the poem...~ ' everything might spill.' - deep line ~ reading add always :) cheers and happy Holidays, Tess!

  4. Your sigh is your statement Tess I like that! The reading is always a pleasure!

  5. tasty and lovely poem. Thanks Tess!!

  6. I read this as about creativity. nativity creativity. never seen this painting before, with milk soup! different.

  7. Your poem is "alive with the sound of music." Beautiful.

  8. How nice it is, a melodious process in a feeding procedure. It goes very well with the narration. Well penned Tess!


  9. Scrumptious words Tess - indeed a pleasure to read.
    Anna :o]

  10. It's almost Christmas Tess!! Just wanted to wish you all manner of wondrous things and also thank you for The Magpie's fabulous, inspiring images - I have come to rely on it as a source of interest and intrigue and a muse over the years - much as we have come to rely on you as a muse xxxx

  11. Only you could stir such a soup...thanks for a fun filled year..yes, FUN!! ..and more, please...

  12. wonderful warm milk sonata, Tessy.

  13. Here's to you and your family and to a glorious new year to all of you. I hope you had a great Christmas, too.

    Greetings from London.


Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)