The wonder of a childโs eyes
Looking at a simple building
The whole world fitting inside
With warm dripping sun
Palms waving hello
In the gentle salt laced breeze
A place of toasted bread
And cheap melted cheese
Where a love for pickles was born
Like a spiritual awakening
Learning the scrumptious flavor
Of pickled cucumbers
Eating outside during the beauty of the day
In comfortable company
Under awnings and trellises
Talking about freeze tag and nonsense
Among the deli paper crinkles
With their red and white checkers
As if I could hop right into them
And play a game
Hey marbles! With all the heavy stuff thatโs been happening on the platform, I wanted to post one of my drafts Iโve been saving for a rainy day. It felt like we all needed some silly whimsical art, and itโs not much, but I hope this helped to lift your heart a little or brought you a smile. This is a poem I wrote a long time ago about a memory I have of my childhood friends and I eating grilled cheese at a deli we used to frequent after church. Itโs a fond one, and Iโm thinking about them today. I wonder how theyโre doing.
love ya,
emma xoxo
cover image from Pinterest



Hey so how can you write something so vivid and beautiful and whimsical about PICKLES? I am in awe of you and also afraid of you.
This was so wholesome I love it ๐ซถ๐ป๐