Who does not remember a taste shared with his friends?
little girl during summer vacation, I decided to throw a party and baptized Caroline, my favorite doll. For the occasion, my incomparable and sweet grandmother had lent to the game It was crafted with love and patience, a nice dress for Caroline and prepared a delicious snack.
I made the effort for this event, put on a lovely dress, I was so happy to receive my four best friends ... a pretty good memory I still remember today, and me given the desire to publish this poem by Maurice Lent.
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The Taste
was compiled Roundtable
Under the fresh cherry.
honey blonde makes the bread,
A bit of sky raining in tea.
We forget hunting wasps
Both were generous heart.
The buns seem porcini
Lost on the blue tablecloth.
In the gold basis of primroses,
The wind played with a kid;
And the day passes under the willows,
Grave and slow as a farmer
Who would, on his shoulder,
Her jug full of light.
Maurice Lent
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