What Memories are Made of

As long as there is bread
I don’t mean your bread
I mean my bread and bread pudding
I don’t mean your memories
I mean my memories
I don’t mean your baking powder
I mean my yeast

As long as there is cake
Not chocolate cake
Fruit cake, not boxed
Scratched and taught
From calloused hands
That knew no rest
Empty pans meant fulfilled guests
And starting over with tomorrow’s meal
Meant prolonged life and hopeful zeal
For whatever memories we carry ahead
We’ll always remember from whence we fed

Oh yes I will tamper with a recipe or two
Eat someone else’s, try something new
I didn’t like it all, ran from her lamb stew
Years later discovered what the Armenians knew
My fondest memories come wrapped in all flavors
So whatever you offer, you know your memory I’ll savor

But if a cup of cold water is all you can give
Oh, that’s best of all, without that I shan’t live

ddversepoets.comTuesday prompt. Food! Marvelous food!!! (Oliver). One of my favorite pasttimes -cooking, baking, feeding and eating.

About Mary (tqhousecat)

I am a wife and a mother of two grown children. I love Jesus and sharing my faith through written words. I currently have a poetry blog and also write on medium.com. My main focus is hope in Christ. I only wish that whoever reads this will be blessed, inspired and occasionally amused.
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22 Responses to What Memories are Made of

  1. kittysverses says:

    Great poem. I like these lines especially,
    “My fondest memories come wrapped in all flavors
    So whatever you offer, you know your memory I’ll savor.” 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. rothpoetry says:

    A beautiful poem, Mary. I have learned to like a lot of new flavors since we were married! Love the cup of cold water reference!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ain says:

    Very nice poem, and a real sense of food and hospitality as art and craft, was intrigued by the Armenian reference…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. You really catch the importance of food – and the way it builds relationships. I like the first stanza particularly – it reminded me of some of the kitchen “discussions” I’ve had over the years…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Years later discovered what the Armenians knew

    Beautiful, Mary. Could you please explain this particular line to me?

    Thanks ❤
    David

    Liked by 1 person

    • Haha! I think my mom must have used old mutton in her stew. She would try to tell us it was beef but the odor and flavor spoke otherwise. Then I had roast lamb prepared by an Armenian woman and she didn’t tell,me what I was eating. And being the polite and shy person I was, I never asked, but did ask for seconds. When I found out it was lamb I was hooked. Ever since then I love a “good” lamb! Also my trip to Israel in 99 and my caregiver to a Lebanese couple introduced me to Mediterranean food and I eat it as often as I can get it! I still am not confident enough to prepare one….some memories are stuck in stone.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. writingwhatnots says:

    Love the conversational flavour to this – and where the poem eventually takes the reader – the message in the final couplet.

    Like

  7. Ron Rowland says:

    “But if a cup of cold water is all you can give…” yes, giving and sharing…making memories.

    Like

  8. Gillena Cox says:

    After all the yummy flavours. The essence of kindness in that cup of water. Really nice poem Mary

    Much love…

    Like

  9. Ingrid says:

    What a wonderful poem of gratitude – especially those last lines! How many of us take clean drinking water for granted?

    Like

  10. I think we live by capturing food memories, and the best are always those that we eat and share with frineds.

    Like

  11. msjadeli says:

    Mary, I can tell you enjoyed writing this. I surely enjoyed reading it.

    Like

  12. sanaarizvi says:

    “My fondest memories come wrapped in all flavors,” love this! Such a gorgeous, gorgeous poem, Mary 😀

    Like

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