Poets Salon: Feast

Editor’s Note: Growing up in a family that appreciated poetry, my dad used to host a ‘Poets Salon’ every Saturday evening at our house. These salons gave me a fond appreciation of an art form that recreates words to form a thoughtful world…  When it was time to rename the Poetry Corner, I was grateful that Kathabela had suggested “Poets Salon”. I couldn’t have thought of a better suited name. Happy New Year.

POETS SALON

Birthday (Photo – Kathabela Wilson).

– 1/02/18

Hosted by Kathabela Wilson

As we celebrate, we feast. It is so natural. Our spirits are lifted. The very heart of nature is abundance. We join hearts, share, and partake of the ongoing feast.

~ Kathabela

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Tangerines (Photo – Shelagh Morrison).

Richard Grahn

in the paddies

of South Korea
I met a family

we ate together each night
in their one-room house

never was there a world so large

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Grandma’s dishes (Photo – Shelagh Morrison).

Shelagh Morrison

in the dreich winter of Scotland

a gathering of friends
each bringing their gifts

table and heart groaning with plenty
laughter and song…
and memories

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red and gold and silver

prelude to winter
tree and hedge burgeoning

groaning with delights
studied by wild eyes
hopeful anticipation

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blue and white patterned plate

table is set
fire is layed

we dine on your love
every day a feast day
Grandma

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once upon a time and long ago

when guns had stopped
our hopes and dreams

on a plate held by a pure white table cloth
we feasted

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Feast (Photo – Shelagh Morrison).

Grace Galton

New year

by the eighth day
my resolution is flagging

but lifting my spirits
I watch a blackbird feast
on the last mince pie

Ο

for her tenth birthday
she chooses a picnic

after the feast
shared with sparrows
my daughter’s shadow

is wearing daisies

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Anticipation (Photo – Shelagh Morrison).

Feast: Quotes and Credits

Richard Grahn, Evanston, Illinois: “It was an honor to sit with Kim’s family and share a meal. Around the open-pit oven, we would tell stories and educate one another regarding the subtleties of our native tongues. At 17, this was eye-opening, to say the least. There in that tiny room, the culture of Korea came alive for me and I have carried the lessons of those moments ever since, moments of humility and selflessness wrapped in kindness and imbued with a thirst for understanding. In that tiny room, the world grew.”

Shelagh Morrison, Dunblane, Scotland: “I am not a Scot but a Geordie from Northumberland in England. Lived here for over 40 years and love Scotland very much. Food is hugely important to me after experiencing the tale end of rationing from World War 2. My grandma and parents kept us together and we were raised on good plates of soup and the best they could give us. My dad was a baker who went out of business with the advent of processed and sliced bread. In my last poem… The guns are about what we thought was the end of world wars…never again our parents said…”

Grace Galton, Somerset, UK: “Now in my 83rd year I live quietly in a tiny village in Somerset levels in the south-west of England surrounded by farmland and glorious countryside I love any activity connected to words. I love to travel, to visit with my family and seven great-grandchildren, and to share time with my dearest friends. I also write a daily blog, called “Passing Clouds.” I wish for a happy and peaceful new year.”

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♣ We welcome and encourage your response, especially in the form of a short poem, by leaving a comment below.

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