Contemplative pen

So, I am a pen –
apparently an object
incapable of

thought yet possessed of
ability to make marks
on paper that speak

of metaphor and
so I permit myself to
enquire from whence comes

that flows in my ink, from whence
and how, why and when? –

heady stuff for all
of us: women and men and
contemplative pen

Bolognese daydreamer

Photo at Pixabay

I guess all of us daydream about food. I’m still working on losing some of the pounds that girded themselves about my waist over the Christmas period – so perhaps my culinary reveries have been sharpened a tad.

One of the ingredients that will combine with those in this photo is presently browning in the pan. I know what outcome I’m dreaming of, and thinking particularly of a world renowned city where I once revelled in the most enormous dish of it. What does this photo call to mind for you? And where?