Mother's Remedies

A few years ago, I set out to write a poem that was cute and funny and rhyming. It doesn’t seem to have a home in the current market, so I thought I’d post it here instead.

Mother’s Remedies

by Rachel Swirsky

Kitchen bare, the children’s stomachs ached
rumbling with involuntary fast.
“Hush dears,” mother called. “No need to fret.
Elves have come to cook us a repast.

“They warbled love songs to the pantry
’til water coyly boiled hot.
Potatoes spiced and diced themselves.
Carrots swooned into the pot.

“With tears of joy, onions peeled their skins.
Thyme and basil jumped in to swim laps.
Leaves of cabbage lined up single file
and dived inside like girls in bathing caps.

“Not to be outdone a fleet of gnomes
bubbled up a brine of salt and wine,
moonlight, mumbled prayers, and tangled hair,
socks and rocks and clocks and dusty twine.

They attached a pulley to my spoon.
Ho heave ho, they yanked it to and fro.
Flash! Smash! Crash! and look, a gourmet roast
golden flesh alchemic’ly aglow.

Cupboard pixies in a baking pan
fixed a ten-tiered cherry cake so sweet
just a slice would make the meanest grump
grin and cheer and dance along the street.”

Mother beamed. “Can’t you smell it all?
Bubbling broth, fresh apples, bread and cream?
Recall the scent as you drift to sleep
and let it fill your bellies with sweet dreams.”