Christmas steak

At Christmas eve, we served
a steak on dinner plates my
grandma painted, and when
we laid the table I could sense
the scent of linseed oil and
turpentine. She was an artist,
artisan, each plate a flower-
bed, each piece of porcelain
unique. I don’t remember how
she held the brush, or mixed
the powdered pigments, but
I can trace a patience of her
hands in every china petal;
spicing every meal I cook.

A plate my grandmother have painted.

A plate my grandmother has painted.

Today Kim is hosting at dVerse, and the prompt is to write a poem about craftsmen or artisans. I remembered the porcelain my grandmother have painted. Truly a treasure to eat on.

January 17, 2017

22 responses to “Christmas steak

  1. I love this. Absolutely gorgeous work.

    I think one of your strongest poetic abilities is to use line breaks to control the pacing and stress. Fantastic piece. What a pleasure to read aloud.

  2. What a gorgeous plate and a fine example of an artisan poem. i love the tone of the poem, as if you are having a conversation with the reader, and i adore the idea of each plate being a flowerbed. My favourite lines:
    ‘I can trace a patience of her
    hands in every china petal
    spicing every meal I cook.’
    How wonderful to have something precious like that.

  3. Thanks, brother, for sharing this treasure with us. Each artifact or piece of art we have, that was created by family is precious beyond measure

  4. Beautiful tribute. I especially liked these lines
    “I can trace a patience of her
    hands in every china petal;
    spicing every meal I cook.”
    And the photo tells it all.
    We have a tablecloth, used only on Christmas Eve and Day, with painstaking cross-stitched embroidery by our Aunt Flo. She was a Commander in the Navy and worked with Admiral Nimitz. We miss her — and especially when we use this beautiful cloth.

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