Still Summer


Steaming bread, fresh from the oven, too hot to slice
Placed in the centre of the otherwise bare rustic table,
Filling the large country kitchen with a delicious aroma.
The cooling oven ticked. A battery wall clock hummed.
A rack of steel kitchen serving spoons, whisks and ladles,
Glinted sunlight in patterned delight onto walls and work surfaces.
A welsh dresser displayed antique plates, pewter mugs,
A cut glass wine decanter with matching glasses and beer mugs.
A decorative porcelain bowl piled high with ripe green apples
Held centre stage on top of a solid bank of pine wood drawers.
The closed windowed door to the garden, had fine lace curtains
Tied back so prettily, with large purple satin bows.

Two windows above the sink were pegged wide open,
Overlooking a garden in bloom. Bright laundry hung still
From a rotary line. The midday sun lit a sweeping valley,
Dotted with cattle and sheep. Gentle tree freckled hills
Were the backdrop to this awesome, peaceful vista.
Chattering skylarks hung in the air as if on invisible thread.
Drunken butterflies of all hues invaded the garden
But never entered the windows – not enticed by the bread.
From an ancient garden apple tree hung limp frayed remnants of rope,
All that was left of a child’s swing or maybe a hammock.
In a corner of the garden, a small shed with curtained windows
And large satin purple bows. The quiet stillness of a Summer’s day.

An old-fashioned set of scales, with weights neatly stacked
By the side, shared a shelf with a magnificent display of cut flowers,
With petals that still held the dew and the scent of the morning.
Four chairs, one of which was a carver, were neatly drawn under the table;
Over the back of one, was neatly folded a crisp white apron.
The loaf of bread stood on a clean but worn wooden bread board.
Resting beside the loaf, a gleaming, sparkling, ancient bread knife
With a handle made from a small antler – maybe from a roe deer.
A closed planed panelled wooden door with brass door knob,
Would open into a pantry as large as the kitchen itself.
No doubt the pantry is filled with a variety of cooked meats,
Jams, pickles and freshly ground herbs and spices.

Outside – nature at Her Summer finest.
Inside - human habitat – and that is fine too.

What a lovely little journey you just took me on, and fresh baked bread is one of the most wonderful smells in the world! Took me right back to my Grannie's kitchen when I was a little girl.

Thanks, Sir Knight, you always make me smile!

Love and BIG HUGS,

Alice