image by Christine Sponchia on pixabay
Remember Grandma’s feather bed?
I remember her feather pillows.
Remember her shed in the yard?
I remember that’s where she did the plucking.
Remember the mess when the cat snuck in?
I remember we were the ones to sweep it.
Remember Grandma’s peristeronic pie?
I remember we were the ones to eat it.
53 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Peristeronic
crispina kemp 
Love this!
LikeLike
Thank you… thought I’d go a different route
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a great take, Crispina! Love it
LikeLike
See. Told you. 🙂 🙂 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
This was such a sweet poem Crispina.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sadje
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome 😇
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good on you, you made me look up a new word! So, you really ate pigeon pie???
LikeLiked by 1 person
Only for the word-prompt, though I’ve no doubt my grandma did.
LikeLike
Ooh, pie….! But a peristeronic pie…? Hmm, no thank you! 😛 A wonderful take on the word prompt, Crispina. Love the poem and learned a new word! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pigeon pie was quite common in Victorian houses. All those picturesque dove-cotes? They were for the breeding of doves (pigeons) whi first provided eggs, and then meat. Pigeon was a staple of the table. Preferrably un-poached
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmmm… I did have a little familiarity with the use of dove-feathers in Victorian era but i never gave it another thought to the whole idea of breeding them for those purposes.
I like me pigeons alive though, even if they are efficient shit launchers! 😛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Makes me laugh!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the way you’ve used the dialogue to create a great rhythm in the poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. It was fun to write. I was looking for a different way to use the word
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a lovely poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Indira 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Welcome, dear.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t think we had pigeons where I grew up, but I sure as shit remember my grandma’s butterscotch pie. The lady was absolutely, stark-raving mad, My mom once asked my grandma, “How do you make such a good crust? Such good meringue?”
Grandma answered, “You just make a pie crust.” *does witchcraft* “And you just make meringue.” *continued magic* *perfect pie comes out, no one understands*
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the rhythm to this, Crispina, and the repetition of “remember” gives a real nostalgic tone to the dialogue. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. It’s that poet, will keep poking out its head!
LikeLiked by 1 person