The Spice of Love

love rootHe by the fire

And I all folded up

under Tartan holding mug of dark hot piping black

Designing gifts of love

And I can see the yellow,house

Through window pane

And wonder

How you multiply a batch of baked and make it fill up all the cracks

And holes of days throughout the three



when quietly we live across, beside

Angled  on this street so quiet

How do we add enough to make up for lost words

A silence living in the quiet days and nights on quiet

Street, we chose, they chose

A peaceful avenue of still

Which spice can shake out love come down

And fill a heart up full to overflowing

And say I love my neighbor, golden

As myself

Its not the dozens from the oven’s


Its simply love of Christ poured out

And empty handed we could go and take

A batch of baked up

served up

cooked up

 Christmas Love

heart bright in wood

And when the days that roll around
and cause a heart to spill
and resolutely
make a list
of all that will be different
in the year
the one
found when the page


twenty thirteen
has a way of making all things
a wish can roll right off the heart
as I stare at the house
yellow through my pane
that I would deliver
Christmas Love
On all the days
Not simply one
To all the doors

not simply mine


sit in wait
for Christmas Love
Come down
All year


Delivered Daily

not just sprinkled in one batch

no, love come down all year round

I stare at yellow through my windowpane


Joining Amber at The Run A Muck for her concrete word prompts. The Spice Of Love was written out of the word prompt cinnamon. 


3 thoughts on “The Spice of Love

  1. I so enjoyed your take on the cinnamon — the shape of this poem, its cadence, it’s heart. Thankful for your reflections that not only prepare for Christmas, but are really meditations on the advent/coming of the rest of the year. ‘Tis good to expand the heart of Christmas to our own and to all the other days, that we would be people of Christmas all year.

  2. “I baked something and took it to the neighbors,” turned into pure poetry and outpouring of love. Enjoy your writing – the style in your heart expressed through your words. Our neighbors don’t have a yellow roof, but we’ll be sharing some cookies with them, too. Loved the inspiration – thanks.

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