A Nonpareil of Tarts
by Carol A. Stephen

I wandered aimless,
upwind of the bakery this morning, startled
as the door swung open sending the scent
of pies hot from the oven wafting on the breeze.
A squander of clove and cinnamon, fresh apples!
In the window, a nonpareil of tarts, muffins,
and miraculous cakes, each topped with a curl
of fine chocolate.

I passed by twice,
trying to imagine the tastes, elusive in memory, each but a ghost
upon the tongue. I tossed intention in the gutter, turned in defiant
scorn at an ego demanding a svelte body when just steps away
the prize of salty cheese bread, chocolate torte, cranberry tart,
and yes, that apple pie!

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This poem was written to a NaPoWriMo prompt in April 2013. There was a list of words, the requirement was to use at least five. I managed 12, and a variation of a 13th word to create this bakery visit poem. It was originally published on my own blog at Quillfyre.

Birthday Apr 2013

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Carol A. Stephen is a Canadian poet. Her poetry has appeared in Bywords Quarterly Journal and two Tree Press/phaphours press collaborative chapbooks. You can also find Carol’s poems on-line at The Light Ekphrastic and in videos at treereadingseries.ca. Twice shortlisted,  in 2012 Carol won 3rd place in Canadian Authors Association National Capital Writing Contest. She’s the author of three chapbooks, Above the Hum of Yellow Jackets, Architectural Variations and Ink Dogs in my Shoes (2014), as well as a new collaborative chapbook with JC Sulzenko, Breathing Mutable Air (2015). Visit her blog at quillfyre.wordpress.com.

AUTHOR PHOTO: The author on her birthday, 2013.