The same old silver grater, clear
glass bowl, dented wooden spoon used
to make round applesauce cake for
first birthdays
today
made muffins for freshman and senior
year. Instead of watching from your
wooden high chair, bass boomed behind
closed bedroom
doors
while green granny smith apples, bright
orange carrots joined honey, oats, almond
flour for you. Another day of
beautiful childhood
fleeting
before lovesick eyes not done soaking
up all the wondrous firsts, seconds
of motherhood’s dance. Don’t blink they
tell you;
blink
blink
blink
Bridgette Tales 
Absolutely lovely Bridgette!
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Thank you so much, Ali!
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I love this. The sensory imagery, the storytelling, the repetition at the end – this all works so well
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Thank you so much!!
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Lovely! I couldn’t imagine a poem about apple carrot muffins – this one is a splendid surprise. Well done!
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Thank you! Yeah, it’s not a typical poetry topic. I’m glad you liked it!
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Bittersweet nostalgia. Wonderful poem!
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Thanks so much, Priscilla! I’m so glad you liked it.
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I have cooking utensils that my Mother used and I recall from my childhood. My adult son picked up a bowl of mine from the drainer the other day and said “I remember cooking with you and this” his expression was wistful, mine was too. Time passes so swiftly, I enjoyed this poem so much. Thanks Bridgette.
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What a beautiful story! Thank you for sharing it with me and I’m so glad my poem connected with you. My comments got all mixed up earlier and I fixed it now 🙂
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Easy to do Bridgette, I’ve done the same myself. I thought you may have me pegged as a John though as I once thought a particular reader of mine was a woman and turned out it was a man and it was discombobulating for awhile. Gender shouldn’t matter but we form a picture of certain readers and I was completely wrong!
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That’s so interesting! Yes, it’s often surprising to find out the gender of an author.
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Deliciousness!
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Thanks, John! They are good and actually healthy too.
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your welcome, Bridgette!
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I love this so much. It hit me in the feels. Senior and a sophomore in my house, and I don’t feel ready.
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Me either! Weren’t we just playing in the mud and bubbles?? It goes way too fast.
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Love love love!!! Blink!!!
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Thank you so much, Dee! I keep blinking!
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😉 👍🏽 😉
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I love this!!
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Thank you so much!
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It’s lovely!
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Thank you so much, Aaysid!
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Those look delicious! Thanks for following my blog.
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Thanks! They are full of protein too!
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Lovely
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Thank you so much ☺️
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Lovely and poignant. Thanks for visiting our Write2Ignite website.
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Thank you! I’m glad you liked my poem. 🙂
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Memories whipped so beautifully on your apple carrot muffins Bridgette!❤️💕
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Thank you for your kindness, Cindy! It’s so surreal to find both my kids in high school.
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You’re so welcome! It goes so fast alright!! Enjoy!! ❤️
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A wonderfully delicious and poignant poem, Bridgette. I remember my Mum’s kitchen utensils too. This poem brought back happy memories of baking cakes, and apple and blackberry crumbles with her. I remember Mum having a gadget called a pastry blender with sharp metal wires on a wooden handle, and the wires break up the flour, butter and sugar into a crumble mix. I loved helping with that. I really enjoyed the yumminess of this poem. Thank you for sharing it. X 🌞
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Thank you so much for sharing that absolutely beautiful memory with me! It brings me so much joy. Thank you so much for reading and have a fantastic day.
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SWOON! Don’t blink indeed 😭 it goes way too fast. What’s that old saying? The days are long but the years are short. So much honestly to that. Nikolai is turning 8 this December. 2 years until we hit double digits and 5 until I have a teenager on my hands. Make it stop.
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Nobody told me how heartbreaking mothering would be. It’s a series of beautiful goodbyes.
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Yes it is.
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Love the poem but damn, I want a muffin!
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I’d happily give you one if I could!
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