There is an Onion by the Stove

There is an onion by the stove

brown-papered, seeming unconcerned

smug, really, if you come to think

of its audacious round bum at rest


Audacious, to just sit there, by the stove

so near the fire, so nonchalant and calm

Ha – is there anything more patient? or

more self-centred than an onion?


There is an onion by the stove, love

really, just there, not even in a bowl

as if taunting the pans, the burners

the frenzied flail of spatulas


Taunting, with its papered curves

any pretension of perfected flights

of culinary fancy; it comes down

to this, emissary of earth, of soul


While the poet crafts ephemera

in eggwhite, whips chocolate into

bacchanals, commits carnage unrelenting

sieves and bastes, deglazes, tastes


Nothing, nothing in all the craft at hand

so sums the lowly nature of that

which most sustains humanity, as to point

like a sage, and say no more than this:


There is an onion by the stove.

(Stroll of Poets 30/30 2019, Day 28) Image by Robert-Owen-Wahl on 

4 Comments Add yours

  1. Ohhhh, I love this ❤ Well done. Wonderful wordplay and great images. I could frame this 🙂


    1. prairiepomes says:

      Please do, with my best wishes!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Anna, this once again proves you are brilliant.


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