My Childhood Comfort Food
A bowl of spaghetti
Buttered, no cheese or red sauce.
Challah, bread of braids, 
Torn by my greedy hunger.
Consumed with gusto,
And if I was patient, sliced and toasted.
Apple pie with more crust than filling,
I tended toward starch, crunch 
Leaving out nutrition.
I fed my soul with homemade delights,
Soft on the system, curled in the hands
Of those I loved.
My inclinations are more green, red, and yellow.
I’d say mellow.
I’ve left behind starch as my basis
Seeking heartier fare.
My soul accepts the transfer 
As long as loving hands
Stir, pat, roll, with crusty
Exuberance.
Love and time coupled,
are my comfort pair.

Let me know about your comfort foods. You can find me at http://www.abberolnick.com