I know a bit about pies and such, but cooking makes me scared
When rolling out the dough I run, and feeling the dispair.
Cakes are better, but they make me question cooking
Sometimes they come out pretty, others rather unlooking.
Cookies are probably my best results when baking for the fam
They’re crispy, crunchy things that always go wham bam!
So in the baking field, I’m kind of knowing and not
But food comes out good or bad whether you like it or not!
Oh lord, that’s bad. That’s really really bad when it comes to a poem. The rhymes are just nonsense and the scheme is messy. That is what I first thought of when I thought of experienced/inexperienced though. My baking. It can be iffy at times and I have never wanted to really try pie. Especially gluten free pie.
Let’s try this again and see if something better comes out of Robert’s prompts for today…
Men are one of those things I find mysterious
I feel I know my way around them then out of the blue
something catches me off guard and I’m in deep water
swimming out so far that I can’t fathom how to get back
I feel that way when I write about men too. I start to write
a scene or two and suddenly Mr. so and so has taken the reins
and is telling me, “No, missy, you are not going to drag me down.
No way would I respond that way.”
So I’m left with my cursor blinking, mocking me
as men are apt to do at times, good natured, but mocking
still the same, and I feel like I’m floundering
trying to reach the beach with no idea how I got here…
I’m reading Outlander and Jamie is a dream dude
sexy and commmanding and a bit young like a stud
but he’d scare the hell out of me if I had a guy like that
I’d probably be bruised, ego, mind, and body
a puddle of nerves, never knowing what to do, but then
feeling like I knew only to be swept off my feet again
And a part of me would like a brute of a guy like that
until sanity strikes me and I think I’m too much like Claire
and I’d be an utter wreck for days…
There is an inexperienced poem. I rather like how that went off.
A drop of vetiver, then lime and juniper
a potion fit for a body in pain
But then there’s rosemary, marjoram, peppermint, and ginger
Potions of oils so strong a whiff from the bottle
makes your eyes burn and your nose clear
but these are my oils and I know them like my hands
I’ve mixed and dropped and poured and tested
Till I can pick out any or almost any oil
from a potion or two to the surprise of many
I’ve smelled lemongrass on friends and caught them
unawares as I said I smelled it on their skin
Some people reeking of patchouli but I like it
to the point where it’s homey
Essential oils are my alchemy and people ask
how did I know that that potion would work?
and I want to just smile and say it’s a secret
It’s my magic, mixing oils and scents
I’m a witch of sorts, but the good kind
I am experienced in essential oils, without a degree, but I read a lot of books on the subject and I take it very seriously. I find a bit of magic in the mixing of oils to make someone feel better. It’s like the old healing women, the midwives and ‘witches’ of old. I have a knack for it and I take pride in knowing how to heal in a natural way.