My homespun bouquet snoozing the day away

Bathing in a tub of zest, its smell radiates through my house

“Hey good lookin’ what ya got cookin’?” I admire it as I dash by Red, yellow, orange, white, a splash of green too~”maginficiant creature, YOU!” 

A crockpit display sparkling with flavor as it sits on low to simmer

Nom Nom as my taste buds are aroused with each sniff

Savory enchant sits on my counter in wait for its devour, oh yeah I made that (I am not one to brag)

No need for a candle, this loaf of meat is its own gift of insence 

My mouth begins to water and it has not even been but an hour, Oh Dear, did I mention I made that? 

This will for sure put a grin from ear to ear on my hubby’s face, for a feast after his long work day his belly will lack for nothing 

Soak it up, soak it in. Like at the fair with entries of pumpkins. My own entry of sorts

Beaming, Twinking, Glitter filled bowl is that a blue ribbon you behold? 

The taste test challenge will tell all, will the meat fall to shreds from its tender soak, for then I can gloat

Only just a little cheer for I am no cook, just found one sweet spot 

In its rest for the day atop my green surface a Pot Roast I adore, for I made it in want for all tummys to be satisfied to their surprise of my makings

For with my hands I write, they can even create a little, yet are awkward when the cupboards open the ingredients staring at me thinking I may be retarded

Well here lies the proof my morning was busy, I hustled for the chase for what now snoozes in my kettle

My bouquet of delight oh what a sight even for little ol’ me, we soon shall see (if it gets a great dinner hon) than chalk it up to best. “Rest, dear one rest!”

Word Prompt: pursue

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Published by

Lisa Ralph, Cries from an unkempt garden

I write to tell my story of how I overcame self affliction, and great despair in this life. For I write to share the death to self that took place. That I may Glorify God in all I do. May my writings be a refelction of freedom, for I am no longer in captivity of self. May they be warm, and inviting. For I write because God has given me words that drip from my mouth to be seen.

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