Home-Baked Bread Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

Thoughts arise of home-baked bread
Set on hearthen coals bright red
Grain hulled on the threshing-floor
Coarse hands forming loaves of yore

Embers playful in quick flight
Whittled twigs shed glowing light
Hut now warm, its ceiling black
Worn dark coats hung on a rack

Somewhere in lost childhood's fog
Barnyard swallows swoop by logs
On a languid summer morn
Lilacs back-door stairs adorn

Thick white curds and oats ground fine
Little ones in patient line
Waiting for a longed for treat
Mother offers 'time to eat.'

Memories of those faded scenes
Now arise as old age leans
Strong and heavy on my bones
Easing loneliness and groans

Baking bread this afternoon
I recall harsh winds of doom
Tearing us from land and kin
Wiping out what might have been

Yet, like rising of fresh bread
Long lost memories soften dread
As I summon up those days
Plain and simple country ways

There's a gift in home-baked bread
Eaten after prayers are said
Fragrant slices warm and soft
Keeping love and dreams aloft.