My sweetness remembers

the marshmallow moments of girlish childhood,

days sprinkled with hundreds and thousands;

pink, dreamy food.

A tasty treat for life to devour.

The bubblegum day passes,

a chaotic rustle of candy floss dresses,

pink gossamer, and cherry lips whispering

the tart promise of future sweetness. 

I am saltwater taffy 

pulled this way and that,

pummelled and stretched,

measured beyond expectation,

softened beyond possibility. 

I am sweetness poured out on your table, 

coloured, blended;

pure sugar bent, twisted, draped, folded,

sliced and packaged.

My sweetness is tempered by

the salt water of births, deaths,

marriages and paychecks.

Hundreds of thousands of worries.

I spin through life,

hotter, brighter,

and my sugar grows glossy,

shiny,

youthful elasticity giving way out of necessity

to a hard, candy shell.

I am seemingly impenetrable

but for my soft, nougaty center.

Mother Hen

Feature photo: shutterstock

(Writing Prompt: SUGAR, part of Poetry 101 Rehab by Mara Eastern – Thanks, Mara! Feel free to jump on her poetry wagon each Monday!)

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