All Poems, Family, Grandchildren, Holidays, Purim, Santa Monica 3/24, Seasons, Trips and Places

March Winds Blow Purim Into Santa Monica

 

March winds blow Purim into Santa Monica.

In time to recount the story of Esther.

Prepare to bake Hamentashen.

With three boys at the counter.

Setting out ingredients.

Utensils, bowls, pans, parchment paper.

Wishes for a joyful time.

Then starting to make dough.

Creaming butter, sugar.

Cracking eggs.

Adding vanilla, orange juice, salt, flour.

Tiny hands taking turns stirring, then kneading.

Deciding against a rolling pin.

Rather, shaping balls in palms.

Placing them on a pan.

Imprinting each with a thumb.

Shaping it into a triangle.

For Hamen’s hat or pocket,

whichever tale you prefer.

Filling with Nutella.

Each boy, cookie connoisseur.

 

Lynn Benjamin

March 30, 2024

 

 

All Poems, Food, For Children, Friendship, Humor, Purim

Purim

 

Purim is joyful.

Celebrating survival of Persian Jews.

From the vile plan of Haman, the King’s advisor.

His triangular hat, iconic holiday symbol.

Becoming hamantaschen, three cornered cookies.

Stuffed with fruit paste.

A sweet my mother made for years.

Then, I, preparing them by the dozens.

Going into children’s classrooms to bake.

Molding, stuffing aromatic treats.

But, in later years, less ambitious.

No young children about.

No classrooms.

By chance, a neighbor called to offer some.

Ones she just baked.

Her gesture kind.

Thoughtful.

Generous.

Sweet as the filling.

Supportive as the pastry.

Four perfect triangles cradling prune purée.

Quite an irony.

Haman’s hat, a good turn,

when he, a wicked foe.

Story transformed to giving

with fruit inside of dough!

 

Lynn Benjamin

March 9, 2024