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.
