A Rainy Day In Winter This is a day for baking fresh oven bread, dripping with whatever you fancy to spread. For me it’s the blackberry, nectar of gods, melting on butter, engorged in wads. This is a day of green hills in the mists and the Aga-heated smells of cooking a second breakfast after milking the cows, followed by a race to feed squealing sows. There, where childhood days were mostly wet with puddles, mud and drizzle, our boots on the grate, raincoats hanging on lines, sheltered in our country kitchen’s warmth. Here, we ate Irish soda bread at its best. This is a day for staying indoors, reflecting on life, and attending to chores. It’s cold and it’s grey, damp to the bone, definitely the time for staying at home. This is a day for baking fresh oven bread dripping with whatever you fancy to spread. For me, I’m at home smelling the turf, gazing over cliffs to the wild Atlantic surf. This is a day for a roaring log fire, a good book maybe, or someone I desire.    à la cuisine avec the rough and the smooth wise housewife takes her kitchen knife cuts him out of her life with every squeeze of smooth zesty lemon and every sip of slippery juice she’s green with envy with every roughly chopped slice and force of f a l l i n g sharpened cleaver sinking into blood red flesh he’s on her mind ― telephone rings The Dawning of Aquarius! I don’t slice don’t cut never sip cannot swallow you ever again what’s she got I haven’t? who he xxxxx I don’t care!

barbaraa.taylor’s poetry is on Triplopia, Lynx, NewVerseNews, Ribbons, Stylus, Salt River Review, Cezanne’s Carrot, Flashquake, Poemeleon, Kaleidowhirl, Wisteria, Poets Against The War, Shamrock Journal, Haiku Scotland, Simply Haiku, SP Quill, Chrysanthemum, Contemporary Haibun On Line, Tattoo Highway, Yellow Bat Review, Blue Fifth Review, and others. Born and raised in Ireland, she is now inspired by her Rainbow Region in northern NSW, Australia and is a regular at local poetry nights. Her poetry with audio is at http://batsword.tripod.com