Mornings Atop Granny's Kitchen Counter (Revised January 24, 2014)

Mornings Atop Granny's Kitchen Counter

 Written by Jonathan Henderson

Originally October 12, 2013; Revised January 24, 2014

T'was such a young lad; t'was so long ago,

And yet, it appears just like yesterday, tho',

When I sat upon my Granny's kitchen counter,

A woman, aged three score, but a soul full o' gold:

A tower of strength to me even at five feet eight,

And I, but a wee tot, gazing 'pon her fiery eyes

As she would lift me towards her kitchen's skies

To coronate me unto her coy throne, 

A surface, white, as purity embodies winter's snow.

O'! How I was such an impressionable lad

Fascinated by her country colloquial virtues; and

Imbued within the Southern comforts, the ambiance of

Her native mile-high, the ancient Carolinian mounts,

Embodying the yeoman ethos, resolve; and

A love cultivat'd from only the richest salts

Our Lord Thy God embedd'd within His Earth!

And Granny fried that bacon so crisp,

Stirr'd homemade gravy in her black iron skillet;

Her biscuits made from scratch, so billow'd like clouds,

The dough rose amid my fancy in a caring heat,

Bak'd golden, a taste chewy with a crunch amid

Piety's dichotomy of Pleasure's textures.

Yet the greatest ingredient of all was her love,

A quality, tho' she be in the denouement of her years,

Shall never fade at twilight of a day once dawn'd.

Upon dining at her triclinium in spiritum*,

There was always far more than met the eyes:

A congregation of our collective bloods flow'd,

The embodiment of passion within the family, and

The likes of which are today mired in obscurity,

For libertine values prevail in society's malaise.

Granny is a trip to simpler times and their charms,

For 'pon me I am imparted with her love and wisdom,

And unto her, I bestow my eternal gratitude 

As her legacy shall never be lost 'pon me.

(*In Latin, this is directly translated as "triclinium in the spirit." It is a reference to the table used during The Last Supper)