Leeks and Love

Painting and Concept by Rick Mobbs

Leeks and Love

She stands there
short and stoop-shouldered,
the large white chef’s hat
softly squatting
on her small head;
her silver locks long
and pulled back
into a soft bun,
tied gently
with a garland
of white daisies—
her large blue eyes twinkling
with kindness,
with eyebrows raised
in anxious anticipation
of you bravely
taking a taste
of her amorphous white bubbling brew,
thrust forward
in her strong old hands
in that smooth wooden spoon;
an aged face,
but the skin is smooth,
almost youthful
and only carrying
shallow wrinkles.

She looks familiar,
like a maiden aunt,
or your stepfather’s
grandmother,
cooking joyfully
in a Cajun frying pan.

Yes, this cook may appear
a bit witchy
in the deep shadows
of her kitchen,
but no,
for me she could just as easily be
wistful, wise, and wonderful
as she brewed up
a frothy batch
of white light,
of succor,
of hope;
offering up
vanilla dreams
and tapioca textures.

So relax
and fully comprehend
the tall horns
of whiteness,
the cosmic horseshoe,
standing tall
behind her—
if she be a witch,
she be a white one,
a unique entity
of goodness,
humor,
and positive resonance
radiating love
hidden in the heat
of her cuisine.

I tell you
there is nothing here
that smacks of darkness,
newt’s eyes,
lizard’s tail,
raven feathers,
or cat’s whiskers.

She offers up
a steaming spoon
of the whitest puree,
and I will put it
to my lips,
and take a taste,
for today I prefer
the light.

Glenn Buttkus June 28, 2008