Rhubarb, Apple, Humble

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/11/30/prompt-humble-pie/

 

Not my favourite type of pie. I much prefer rhubarb

With a touch of ginger. Tart but warming.

Or apple, sprinkled with cinnamon. Sweet but spicy.

 

Humble pie is bitter, sour tasting.

No matter what flavour it is topped with.

 

I swallow it with dread. And it goes over in lumps,

Choking on the way down.

But, once consumed,

It tastes sweeter, more full of flavour

Than any other.

For it means I had to say,

‘I’m sorry. I was wrong.’

As tough as that is to do, as hard as the crust may be-

It cuts at the throat –

To move on, it is necessary.

 

No matter what pie you love,

Swallowing pride,

Revealing inside,

Alters taste

And relationships.

Advertisement

25 thoughts on “Rhubarb, Apple, Humble”

    1. But you do sound as if you enjoyed yourself! And you have to be strong in the face of possible adversity. Anyway, you’ve sent a letter now so all’s well. Enjoy the other pie now. :)x

      Like

  1. Is humble pie what we call Mince meat pie but there’s no meat in it…it is very bitter…my father loved it and we had it every Christmas…had to…much prefer apple or strawberry/rhubarb pie…have to have cherry for my daughter and her dad though…always. Love this poem…you always amaze me with the length you can write a poem and tell a story too:)

    Like

    1. Humble pie is what we call saying sorry, swallowing our pride. Like, ‘I’m gonna have to eat humble pie’ ‘cos I’ve done or said something wrong. Don’t know if I fancy the sound of the Mince meat pie either. 🙂
      You know me, Oliana, talking’s my thang! :)x

      Like

      1. My problem’s trying to stop it!
        It does get on my nerves.
        I never used to do it ALL the time,
        Speaking so in verse.
        I’m going back to writing
        For a little while.
        Some prose I feel
        To keep it real.
        Though poetry makes me smile. :)x

        Like

      2. feckin’ hell!
        I’m up as well.
        Have been
        Since half past four.
        Another hour or two in bed
        Would go down well right now.
        But work is calling very soon,
        To hurry out that door.

        Aw, Jenny
        This is getting sad!
        You’re right, it’s very hard.
        Maybe if we stop it now
        We’ll not be penning
        Christmas cards! :)x

        Like

Comments are closed.