Who would have ever thought
A bowl could hold ties to memories brought
By a little bundle that took us like an explosion
On a seven year ride, seemingly without stop in motion.
It went from holding snacks, to spaghetti, to desserts
Always allowing for those sneaky, sharing flirts
Finally reigning supreme over the breakfast tradition
A known comfort as life goes through countless transitions.
What happens when you hear out of the blue,
As you are adding the magic organic moo,
“Grandma, I’m big now, I’m seven years old,
I don’t think I need the baby bowl,” you’re told.
3 thoughts on “Ode to the Bowl”
The bowl will be missed. I can’t believe after all those years through the dishwasher it didn’t crack and leak.
What a rich cultural art history is evident.
I am hunbled to view this blog
As you are someone whose spiritual gifts are serving others and teaching, I am humbled that you have taken the time to view my site. Thank You!