I still remember my mother cooking chocolate pudding, cooling it in the fridge, and then serving it to us with a big dollop of freshly whipped cream. Yum!
PUDDING
by Elaine Magliaro
In the bowl before me…
a puddle of sweet mud
topped with a dollop
of whipped cream.
I scoop up a spoonful
of pudding.
Silky smooth,
it slides
into my mouth,
slips over my tongue,
soothes my aching sweet tooth
in a pool of milk chocolate.
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Yesterday, I posted a poem by Noble Prize winner Wislawa Szymborska entitled Photograph from September 11.
At Blue Rose Girls, I have another poem by Szymborska entitled Hunger at Camp Jaslo.
Jennie has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Biblio File.
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