Here is an Easter poem from A Home for the Seasons, my unpublished collection of memoir poems about happy times I spent at the home of my maternal grandparents.
Photograh by Ian BrittonEASTER SUNDAY
A large open kitchen is the heart
of my grandparents’ house.
It is in this sunny yellow room
that our family celebrates
the “special” days of the year.
After church on Easter morning,
everyone gathers here for a holiday breakfast
of Polish ham and fresh kielbasa,
hardboiled eggs and cheesecake.
And there is always Babci’s homemade horseradish
guaranteed to burn our tongues and make our eyes water.
When we finish eating,
we play our game of dueling eggs.
The winner gets to joust again.
The loser has to eat her egg.
Happy Easter!!!
We call it "boxing" eggs at our house...but "jousting" is a much better description!
ReplyDeleteLovely poem, Elaine!
Janet,
ReplyDeleteI can't recall what we called our "boxing" egg competition on Easter--so I had to think up a word or two so I could write about it in the poem.
Nice memories of Easter. It made me hungry too :)
ReplyDeleteHappy Spring to you. I'm late to say Happy Easter
ReplyDelete