I no longer simmer
On the back burner
Too afraid to be forgotten
I now, show up
In the luring scent of
Brewing stews
Carrying my own
Spoon.
An acquired taste to some.
Affordable for all.
I no longer simmer
On the back burner
Too afraid to be forgotten
I now, show up
In the luring scent of
Brewing stews
Carrying my own
Spoon.
An acquired taste to some.
Affordable for all.
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nice
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Wow you said it awesomely! It awakened me in the moment.
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Pragal, thank you. I was trying to figure out how to properly convey what I wanted to say in this poem and I am happy to see people connecting. Thank you.
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You are so absolutely welcome! Your words are perfect, made me pick up my spoon and straighten up, head and shoulders, and be THE part of the brew 🙂
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Haha. Boom! That’s it, Pragal. Thank you. ❤
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🙂 🙂 🙂
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😊
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Amen!
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A hearty metaphor! 💚
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Thank you, love.
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Always a pleasure.
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*Gives you a big hug* There’ll be a Little Monster post soon. 😊
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right on. make it happen
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You remind me: I was once described as ‘the salt in the soup’. I believe you are, too. I’m glad you’re back Simple Soul Sister!
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Haha. Hello, Jane. Thank you. I’m happy to be back. 😊
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Love this.
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Thank you, Peggy!
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good morning Tre, a wonderful waking for me as your words always inspire 🙂 have a wonderful Thursday ❤
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Thank you, Kim. I pray the same for you! *big hugs*
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