Bread

Workshop writers are often challenged to write a short piece on a prompt while in session.

They are given 7-10 minutes to write, then share their work with each other.

During a recent session, the prompt was “bread.” Though sometimes similar, no two pieces are the same.

Here are three of the impromptu works:

Bread

By Venus Bratsveen

Bread, bread

It’s in my head

My tummy calls

To line its walls

With beautiful, yummy bread.

Bread, scratch, dough, moolah, the Benjamins, green backs, cash not coin, tender, bucks.

It’s all the same to me.

A means to an end.

Bread and Roses

By Lisa Conger

Bread and roses - you need both.

Sustenance for the body, sustenance for the soul.

The aroma of bread baking is as heavenly

as the fragrance of roses.

Sharing bread, breaking bread ~

even the crumbs are a treat for the birds,

while rose petals are a feast for the lover of beauty,

and for the poet who writes verses about roses

for their loved one.

Bread and roses.

Bread and roses.

Bread

By Carol Beeson

My grandmother, my Mother’s Mom, baked several loaves of bread every Saturday along with her famous pies and cakes. Of course she baked on other days if she ran low for some reason, but that would disrupt the strict schedule she kept. Saturdays were baking days ensuring that there was something to serve unexpected company that showed up on Sundays, especially in the summer. Farming was hard work so meals played an important part in daily living. Breakfast was served around 6:00 a.m., after milking. In the summer, a lunch was carried to fields where “the men” were working around 10:00 a.m. A heavy dinner was served around 12:00 noon followed by a short nap, then back to the fields. Another lunch was carried to the fields around 3:00 p.m. and a light supper of bread and milk was served after milking and evening chores. Bread was part of every meal.