small granules
of grated ginger
are embedded
in my fingernails
the knife is slick
& the root crunches
with my movement
I am distracted
your pacing
outmaneuvers
your own anxiety
but I’m trying
to stay focused
on the tangible
the taste of ginger
and foolish blood
a small pool
forming
on the tip
of my finger
the samba blaring
two doors down
reminding me
I am missing the cool
depth of the Caribbean
I decide to sear garlic
and lime
it stings
but I continue.
– Sheila C
sheila sea 
Reblogged with love 💐💐💐
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Thank you again. 🙂
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This is wonderful.
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I’m glad you think so. 🙂
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Thanks for the reblog, babe.
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Hi, I’ve to say that I really enjoyed the owesome works you’ve posted on your blog !! Really great writing style !!
I administer the blog – https://myrainbowhuedworld.wordpress.com/
For my masters thesis, which I’m doing on blogging, as to why people blog; their motivations for blogging, I need bloggers to attend a survey. That’s how I came across this blog.
It would be of great help for my research work, If you could submit your responses for the following questionnaire. Please click on the link below. You might be asked to sign in to your gmail account. Do participate in the survey. Also please forward it to bloggers you know.
http://goo.gl/forms/tgypc7QmCA
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Thank you, I’ll try my best to complete the survey.
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Thank you so much !! 🙂 🙂
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This is s good. A pleasure to read.
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Thank you! And a pleasure to hear from you, as well. 🙂
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A beautiful poem, it strikes me with longing. It reminds me a lot of the word “hiraeth”.
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Thank you! That happens to be one of my favorite words in the English language. I’m happy it conjures up that image.
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