Friday, March 18, 2011
By Jon Slone
Remember when Mom made biscuits from scratch?
Look back if you will and imagine a batch.
Hot from the oven
Here came the meal-savers!
Ready to render all kinds of meal favors!
In biscuity bliss with the best of all breads.
We tucked away butter in our biscuity beds.
Those toasty-warm cushions were couches for jam.
And houses for steak and country-fried ham.
We killed them with gravy
We ate them with hashes.
We dipped’em and ripped’em and sprinkled their ashes.
We loved’em “as is.”
Even more so when wetter.
And nothing could sop up the yoke any better!
There on the plate
All fetching and done.
All of the biscuits
Remember that odd looking bloke with the slumps?
That fat ugly biscuit with biscuity bumps.
Dorky and different and ready to collapse.
The last of its kind made from leftover scraps.
Remember that biscuit?
For you see,
I’ve felt like that biscuit was me!
A clumpy clay sculpture that someone discarded!
The last of the lot and not highly regarded!
There on a plate with all my pain itchin’.
Then that’s when Jesus shows up in the kitchen!
“This isn’t a test so there’s no way to flunk.”
“But listen,” He says
“I don’t make any junk!”
“You’re made in my image
A miracle refined.
You’re skillfully wonderfully a one of a kind!”
He goes on to say and to slay some more doubts.
That my “insides” look beautiful and so do my “outs”!
“When a sad thought lands.”
He says, “Just whisk it.”
“And remember I’ve never made an ugly biscuit!”
So when you feel left out and lumpy with strife.
Just remember these words from the Bread of life!
When it comes to biscuits that look a bit ill.
Your Mother may make some
But He never will!
This is a special poem that I wrote for my book, "Riggleberry Bloke and other silly whatknots"
Jon BigHElittleme Slone