mamma sally

puttanesca tickles my nose
pulls me through 
these streets, eyes closed
Mamma Sally, she knows
how to fill my bowl

daughter of the old country
set sail for the better life
in the big city
Mamma Sally, she knows
how far the red brick goes

she charms tomatoes to the sky
from her window box piazza
seven stories high
Mamma Sally, she knows
how her garden grows

olive oil, garlic, red onion sing to me
hymns of joy, they are
the blessed holy trinity
Mamma Sally, she knows
how to save my soul

Rene ~ February 2011

Submitted for Magpie Tales #51 ~ Come join, write and enjoy!


25 thoughts on “mamma sally

  1. The biblical trio…of the garden. Nice reference for it – helps to paint an even stronger picture of this lovely Mamma Sally. Interesting one to pull from the pic…but it all comes together nicely. Thanks for sharing with One Shot!

  2. Can easily picture Momma Sally through your words. Old country woman making a family life in the city. Well written, Rene. Very nice, telling details in your poem.

  3. I needed to Google 'puttanesca' and will skirt around the literal meaning, to congratulate you on a delightful illustration of the Mamma Sallies of the world, who keep alive what is so special about real Italian cooking.

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