A Winter's Recipe
A soothing open fire, two devilish dimples,
three lavish splashes of hot buttered rum
and lips to whisper four feathered trails
along one's neck.
If flame smolders to embers,
isn't a slow burn preferable
to frenzied heat for roasting chestnuts
and other such... amusements?
by Margaret Bednar, March 12, 2018 (a reworked poem from 2013)
This is for "dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #52 - Let's Fire it Up" I was thinking "Monday Haibun" and wrote an original poem below borrowing a bit from a poem I wrote in 2013. I realize now it is Quadrille Monday and have reworked the poem above into 44 words - shortening the original. I have also include the poem below as that is what I spent my creative time on today.
Historic Biltmore Village, North Carolina
Here is the Haibun I accidentally wrote" and I'll also link with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - The Tuesday Platform"
Snow sprinkled sidewalks muffle our steps as we hold hands; something we should do more often. The quaint village has charmed us as if young lovers; something we should embrace more often. Up ahead a warm glow frolics against old brick buildings, beckoning and beguiling us forward. We extend our hands toward the smoldering fire, his two devilish dimples teasing me as I accept three lavish splashes of hot buttered rum, my insides now as warm as my hands while his lips whisper four (or more?) feathered trails alongside my neck. My head leans on his shoulder as we wait for chestnuts to roast, a delicacy we've never tried. I'm hypnotized by embers, oranges and reds, and soft popping nosies indicating roasting is complete... and a splash of butter and cinnamon for extra flavor.
Two devilish dimples and hot buttered rum chases away twilight's chill.
by Margaret Bednar, March 12, 2018