Onions, Cinquain

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Onions, Cinquain

onions

delicious bulbs

diced in butter sizzle

homely aromatic delight —

potluck

30-11-20

Cinquain

  • a form of five line poetry
  • first line (L1) & L5 are 2 syllables
  • L2 is 4 syllables
  • L3 is 6 syllables
  • L4 is 8 syllables

Frantic Pet Peeve

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I have a pet peeve. My right eyelid itches or a trembles at certain not-so-convenient times.

The crisis occurs a few moments after I plunge my hands into soapy cleanser or when I begin a greasy goo-covering task, it is then my right eye cover kicks up a twitch.

“I feel a disturbance in the face.”

My eyelid is frantic to be soothed. It feels weird to speak of part of my body as somehow removed from me, but my right eyelid seems to have a mind of its own. When I ignore the facial tug-of-war the results have been strange to witness.

One afternoon I was hip deep peeling and de-seeding tomatoes for a familiar recipe. The usual-suspect went into a mini-tremor then escalated into a full -fledged line dance across my face. I madly washed my hands and dried them for this was a true emergency, yep, my eyelid said so. I tried to gently shush my face-quake.

“Let me say, I was not put on this earth to sing Soft Kitty to my eyelid.”

My hands were not sufficiently free of tomato residue so some of the acid crept into my eye. A lot of rinsing later I finished preparing the tomatoes.

I have a new plan when I have messy jobs. When I begin a messy job I wear gloves. Somehow I feel I have out-flanked my right eyelid.

“Now, left ankle I’m looking at you, do not try my patience.”

Lemuel

Frantic

3-29-18