Blossoms

  
What is thy mouth to me?

A cup of sorrowful incense,

A tree of keen leaves,

An eager high ship,

A quiver of superb arrows.


What is thy breast to me?

A flower of new prayer, 

A poem of firm light,

A well if cool birds,

A drawn bow trembling. 

  

What is thy body to me?

A theatre of perfect silence, 

A chariot of red speed,

And O, the dim feet

Of white-maned desires!

– e.e. cummings 

  

I went to the farmer’s market this morning with a friend. It’s nearly the end of the summer and it’s the first time I’ve been all season.

  
We made a few loops around the stands and took in the samples, smells, and sights. One of the first sights we saw was a lovely farm’s stand with gorgeous flowers. I couldn’t leave without buying a few bouquets. 

  
The blossoms inspired me to bake a cake when I got home. Chocolate cake with orange blossom water glaze. There’s simply no better way to spend a Sunday. 

 

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