Tasty little things they are,
browning softly in the kitchen sun –
Bringing back memories of such fun…
Mother’s 1960s kitchen sparkles –
waxed floors – hands and knees –
Polished counters if you please…
Chrome coffee pot percolatin’….
Her Aussie teapot whistle-atin’….
The smells, like Pine-Sol and Mr. Clean.
A lovely visit from Miss Jane,
Her crackly voice filled the air –
her smile beaming everywhere…
Here lil’ Johnny, a slice of bread –
covered in butter, sugar, and banana…
It’s such a lovely day, go out and play…
So many pirates came with me…
in those sugar high days…
Chasing the seas of my imagination…
Charlie come to kill me –
in his sneaky little ways –
shooting bullets, throwing grenades…
Climb upon Apollo 11 –
Countdown to coma –
Neil flashing a thumbs-up!
And blast-OFF!
The trip to the store last week –
bent my knees, made me weak.
But sure to get the right amount of bananas.
Too many, you know, they rot.
Not enough and you’ve got –
…….chaos
As I stood choosing my stalk carefully –
some strange woman glared at me – stare-fully…
As though I was sent to earth to annoy her.
Prissy little bitch.
I’ll bet her mother never even gave her –
bread with butter, sugar, and bananas…
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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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johnallenrichter 