Kevin hodgson
Bio
single full time father.
I love to cook and write for my friends.
Taking a step forward to start sharing to a bigger world now.
Stories (8)
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My mother
Where to start, when most of us can say so many great things about our mothers. My mother wasn’t the best cook, but she tried , I remember many of an over cooked meal. But looking back I may have helped in making this happen. Always in trouble, with a short temper. So instead of cooking she was trying to keep and eye on me. I am currently a single full time father. While I am at work , it is my mother who has my son. And I know he is in good care. Because I know she would ruin a well planned meal to make sure he is safe. As she has done for myself in the past.
By Kevin hodgson5 years ago in Families
A piece of Sand
You are but a small gain of sand. Now sitting in the palm of my hand. if I didn’t stop and look. I would have never took, the time to see. Your radiant shine to be. For among all the fragmented stones. You are one made for thrones. A crowned jewel, a diamond hiding away. I shall keep you as long as you stay. For I know the wind may, carry you away someday. I will try to hold you right here in my hand. My tiny piece of sand.
By Kevin hodgson5 years ago in Poets
A wolves tale
Here I cook a meal for kings. I set the dishes as a song bird sings. For this meal is for no king. Nor shall I be handing out a ring. Its presentation must be right. And my secret can't be in plain sight. For when we finish this meal tonight. It will be only me who has delight. I garnish the plates with gentle care. I pour the wine and check your chair. I invite you in with the sweetest grin. Shall we eat, where shall I begin. A salad for two, but just for you. Maybe a stuffed mushroom , one or two. Then we are on to a cup of soup. It will be my pleasure let me scoop. I will offer cheese and crackers. May leave the room to toss some wrappers. I won't be long, back in a flash. Short of breath, from that quick dash. Lobster and steak, this dish piled high. Make sure u save room for ice cream and pie. Dinner almost done, and I have not had a bite. You look at the clock in the now dimming light. After pie you can spend the night. I'm not going to lie, everythings all right. The look in my eye shows no signs. But you know all the while something shines. My eyes seem empty but full at times. That like short stories and rhymes. You smile and say, "no thanks. I must go and check my tanks. " With a flash and a sudden wind. A storm shutter blows in. For now it is to late. Your are my dinner date. Now You truly see my smile. I start to change in the moon light. You start running in fright. But it is to late. For you are my dinner date.......
By Kevin hodgson5 years ago in Poets
A cook in his kitchen
Where to start, when I am feeling blue? Let’s start by describing it to you. Blue is the hottest color a flame can get, this is true . So hot it appears white. blinding ones sight. Blue is the endless sky that stretches over our heads, seeming to always promise something a new. Such as dream or destination to come by . Blue isn’t for those who are shy. For Blue is the reflection on the water, so crisp and pure. Always inviting you to join its embrace, a natural cure. Blue is sadness, that is so deep in color it seems to be a black shadow inside. Dark enough to make one subside. Blue is joy of a new beginning, when tinted just right, and accompanied by white.
By Kevin hodgson5 years ago in Poets
