A Way With Caraway

[wasellajam]

A Way With Caraway (NaPM edit)

When we cleared Mawmaw's house
even the closet shelves were adorned,
edged with flat bands of crocheted bells;
originally from Norway, her father lost at sea.

Her daughter was steeped in ancestral tea:
sleek enameled silver, intricate
tatting starched into bowls, heavily
salted homemade food laced
with cream, brown bread slick with butter.

December heralded the baking marathon,
Alice knocked out a new cookie
every few days for two weeks, stacks
of tins piled high on every surface.

One year, missing some Christmas favorites
her family wouldn't touch, we dove
into a day-long recipe, a loaf of caraway
seeded meat in aspic, the start
of our late month lunches together,

her grinning face lit with youth.
Now the recipe is mine but today, checking
the spelling of Kalvesus, all I could find
was the Swedish Kalvsylta, no caraway.

[Deor Ana Log]

A Way With Caraway (NaPM edit)

This is how I would rearrange the stanzas to better tell the story:

One year, missing some Christmas favorites
her family wouldn't touch, we dove
into a day-long recipe, a loaf of caraway
seeded meat in aspic, the start
of our late month lunches together,
her grinning face lit with youth.
Now the recipe is mine but today, checking
the spelling of Kalvesus, all I could find
was the Swedish Kalvsylta, no caraway.

Her daughter was steeped in ancestral tea:
sleek enameled silver, intricate
tatting starched into bowls, heavily
salted homemade food laced
with cream, brown bread slick with butter.

When we cleared Mawmaw's house
even the closet shelves were adorned,
edged with flat bands of crocheted bells;
originally from Norway, her father lost at sea.

December heralded the baking marathon,
Alice knocked out a new cookie
every few days for two weeks, stacks
of tins piled high on every surface.

Thank you for sharing, I had a great time reading about Mawmaw! - Deor Ana Log

[wasellajam]

A Way With Caraway (NaPM edit)

This is how I would rearrange the stanzas to better tell the story:

One year, missing some Christmas favorites
her family wouldn't touch, we dove
into a day-long recipe, a loaf of caraway
seeded meat in aspic, the start
of our late month lunches together,
her grinning face lit with youth.
Now the recipe is mine but today, checking
the spelling of Kalvesus, all I could find
was the Swedish Kalvsylta, no caraway.

Her daughter was steeped in ancestral tea:
sleek enameled silver, intricate
tatting starched into bowls, heavily
salted homemade food laced
with cream, brown bread slick with butter.

When we cleared Mawmaw's house
even the closet shelves were adorned,
edged with flat bands of crocheted bells;
originally from Norway, her father lost at sea.

December heralded the baking marathon,
Alice knocked out a new cookie
every few days for two weeks, stacks
of tins piled high on every surface.

Thank you for sharing, I had a great time reading about Mawmaw! - Deor Ana Log

Hi, Deor, thanks for reading. If you click on the forum name (in this case Mild to Moderate Critique) you'll see the posting guidelines for that specific forum. They vary from forum to forum and will give you an idea of appropriate comments for each.

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Oh, I just saw your rearrangement, putting your comments that are within the body of the poem in bold or a color will help bring attention to them. Thanks for the suggestions.

[Deor Ana Log]

Thank you for your understanding of my critique, and second look!