The POTW: Verse Til It Hurts


POTW #811
(Week of 26 August, 2012)

Anna was making cookies yesterday, and my rapture began long before the first batch even hit the oven. I felt like the world needed a poem about the effect of the smell of cookie dough on the human spirit.

Scent of Cookie Dough

The wafting scent of cookie dough
Slinks its way from the nose to the toes
Which of course are the seat of the soul
The bottom of our mixing bowl

Like flannel pajamas and comfortable socks
Trusted friends and heart-to-heart talks
Back massage and beams of sunshine
Obvious proof that the world is kind

It swirls and swaddles, a fat cat's purr
Butter and sugar reassure
Preventative or convalescent
An aromatic antidepressant

And also a compelling signal drum
With promises of cookies yet to come!

Copyright © 2012 by Dave Grossman

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Interested in more? Check out "Ode to the Stuff in the Sink," Dave's illustrated book of "guy" verse (concerning the deeper philosophies of things like not doing the laundry, putting your feet on the furniture, and of course beer) at the Maximegalomporium (our store). And did I mention it was illustrated? Pictures!

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