{"id":14145,"date":"2023-04-12T09:35:06","date_gmt":"2023-04-12T13:35:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.lyndalambert.com\/wordpress\/?p=14145"},"modified":"2023-04-12T09:35:06","modified_gmt":"2023-04-12T13:35:06","slug":"national-poetry-month_2023_day-12_laughter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.lyndalambert.com\/wordpress\/national-poetry-month_2023_day-12_laughter\/","title":{"rendered":"National Poetry Month – Day 12 – Ida Matilda’s Cream Pitcher"},"content":{"rendered":"

National Poetry Month – Day 12
\n<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Wednesday, April 12, 2023<\/strong><\/h1>\n
\n

I post a new poem each day in April.<\/em><\/h3>\n<\/blockquote>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ida Matilda\u2019s Cream Pitcher<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I loved to spend endless, languid<\/p>\n

days at Grandma\u2019s house, sitting<\/p>\n

around her plentiful kitchen table. Ida<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Matilda\u2019s raisin-filled cookies, sprinkled with<\/p>\n

granulated sugar,<\/p>\n

apple pies and yeast breads served hot from her<\/p>\n

oven<\/p>\n

tart cherry desserts and homemade blackberry<\/p>\n

jam.<\/p>\n

I poured heavy cream this morning, from her<\/p>\n

old ivory creamer, a<\/p>\n

little piece of McCoy pottery, circa 194o, Art<\/p>\n

Deco, with faded daisies and pale green<\/p>\n

leaves, beside<\/p>\n

a glass vase of old-fashioned pink roses on a<\/p>\n

soft cotton table cloth, the color of Ida\u2019s<\/p>\n

blushing cheeks.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Creamers like this had a mate but the open sugar<\/p>\n

bowl, now lost.<\/p>\n

Reservations were never necessary<\/p>\n

even when times were tough, she served her<\/p>\n

husband and 7 children<\/p>\n

around the abundant table.\u00a0 A tolerant<\/p>\n

Mother, she filled her creamer with sweet<\/p>\n

milk every day.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Patiently I touch the smooth brown glazed<\/p>\n

handle<\/p>\n

Ida\u2019s cream pitcher felt cool in my<\/p>\n

septuagenarian hand<\/p>\n

today. It spilled out the sound of her laughter<\/p>\n

caused me to cinch my fingers around its girth<\/p>\n

her pale eyes were the ice blue winter sky.<\/p>\n

Every time I hold her cream pitcher it<\/p>\n

reveals memories of refreshing new cream.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

by Lynda McKinney Lambert (2017)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Published:<\/p>\n

_<\/strong>Abbie\u2019s Corner of the World, Blog, 2017<\/em><\/p>\n

_<\/strong>Lambert, Lynda McKinney. Star Signs. <\/em>\u00a0DLD Books, 2019.<\/p>\n

_Read at presentation for Ellwood City Historical Society, January 2020.<\/p>\n

_Newsreel Magazine, voice recording, September 2021.<\/p>\n

_Walking by Inner Vision Blog, April 12, 2023.<\/p>\n

riverwoman@zoominternet.net<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Lynda McKinney Lambert<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>MISSION STATEMENT<\/p>\n