A Poem … No One’s Stinkin’ Rose

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

Written on September 19, 2018 on the occasion of Sandy’s birthday

No One’s Stinkin’ Rose

You are my garlic,

but no one’s stinkin’ rose.

You’re the first glimpse of springtime.

The grass between bare toes.

I buried you in autumn.

The garden put to bed.

But you’re the hope of spring time,

of better days ahead.

I thought of you all winter,

it comforts me to know

you’re warmed by frigid blankets,

alive beneath the snow.

And then the magic moment,

the crucial test of spring,

I part the straw so gently

and suddenly … bada-bing

2

You are my garlic,

And I’m your olive oil,

A marriage made in heaven,

united by the soil.

Together we are magic,

No matter what the dish,

From pesto to a salad,

to Aunt Scafidi’s fish.

From basil to tomato,

zucchini on the grill

bruscetta, caponata

garlic brings the thrill.

Photo by PhotoMIX Company on Pexels.com

3

You are my garlic,

the fundamental wealth.

The seed for next year’s harvest,

protector of good health.

Your curves are most impressive,

my fingers take delight

in sensuous enjoyment

your curves of German white.

Your color is delightful,

the pleasure comes to me,

the delicacy blush

of your rocambole.

4

You are my garlic,

the so-called spice of life

There was no hesitation

in making you my wife.

When you detect my breath

camouflaged by stealth

I say without defensiveness

You should have some yourself.”

5

Garlic is your medicine.

Garlic is your food,

Garlic is the secret

to making life s o good.

Don’t forget this tip

to make garlic best,

Peel it, chop it, smash it

but then let garlic rest.

Ten minutes or so,

enough to let the oil warm,

and with your mise en place,

prepare the culinary storm.

So hold your wisecracks

About a stinkin’ rose.

Insult my garlic’s beauty,

and I’ll punch you in the … snout.

And come the end of summer,

I’ll return you to the ground.

Confident come spring time.

We both will be around.

Reaching for the sun

with tough but tender chutes

strengthened by the moisture

we drink with thirsty roots.

With love,

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

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