Soul Food
Sun warmed tablecloth field
spread with feast of honey-gold corn,
shimmers in a heat wave heat haze,
while parallel lines of barley sugar ridges
twist, then converge at point of sight.
Ploughshares upturn toffee-coloured earth
to merge in sweetness with pale horizon,
providing food for the soul to digest
as eyes devour the bountiful beauty
of the harvest banquet laid before them.
thank you for the soul food! love the first verse in particular.
ReplyDeletehello jinksy - soul food indeed. lovely foody topography! steven
ReplyDeleteMakes me think of Autumn and Thanksgiving time!
ReplyDeleteI want to go to that place, right now!
ReplyDeleteSoul food indeed Jinksy. There is something about harvest time that gets to us, isn't there - I think it is almost a primeval thing - everything being stored up for winter. They still haven't harvested the oats next to our fields - they stand there deeply golden, waiting the reaper - I have just come back from a walk and stood looking at the field for a while - deeply satisfying.
ReplyDeleteSo true, the harvesting has begun in Alberta as well, soon will be Thanksgiving.
ReplyDeleteLove the verse my friend, very nice....:-) Hugs
Seems more like an American poem.
ReplyDelete...a beautiful poem full of warm colors...I feel and see the harvest....beautiful, jinksy...just beautiful.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Jackie
Save a place for me?
ReplyDeleteCan I come? :)
ReplyDeleteI love this poem, Jinksy! Soul food indeed. I do feel as if I am feasting when I look at the landscape and feel it's wonderful presence.
ReplyDeleteHarvest used to be so beautiful in my childhood, seeing people's generosity wrapped in hamper on the church altar. Now, we can't seem to enjoy it for fear of no profit. Sad times we live in. Your poem has lifted my spirits again and brought back those wonderful memories.
ReplyDeleteCJ xx
what an appealing feast you've dished up here!
ReplyDeleteThis is gorgeous. We are just on the cusp of the end of our summer. The light is changing, the crops are ripening... A lovely harbinger of things to come...
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful poem.
ReplyDeleteHello Jinksy,
ReplyDeleteLovely interweaving of sights and sweet treats! I really like the "barley sugar ridges"!
There is some beautiful imagery in this poem, did you write it?
ReplyDeleteA lovely poem this is, but at first I thought you were talking about barbecue because here in the South “Soul Food” is genuine African-American food, and yummy too.
ReplyDeleteWhen I read this I was thinking of when I lived on the farm. I was so happy there. Especially in the summer time when we would sit on the front porch and look out across the fields of wheat. Or smell the new mown hay while we ate water melon. So many happy memories and this poem just brought all of them back. *s* Thank you.
ReplyDeleteLovely Jinksy. Can't wait to read some autumn poetry from you.
ReplyDeleteI think of collard greens and fried chicken when I think of soul food; country girl that I am.
ReplyDeleteLiving in a tiny farming village in the Lincolnshire Wolds this lovely poem appealed greatly to me. I enjoyed your blog and will return again.
ReplyDelete