Oakdale Ink

December 2025: Beauty

“There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.”

― Edgar Allan Poe

“Ode to Food”

I hear the chime of silverware 

Below wooden floors

It’ crawls through walls 

And rests in clothes 

Splashes of color

Whisper above cleaned porcelain 

I open my door

Invited is the sound beneath

Of comforting sharpness

I find myself 

Swooped by the aroma of a mothers affection

Guiding me downstairs

It sizzles, It sings 

White flowers bloom and fade into nothingness

Strings of anticipation

Twirl around my curious nose 

I sit upon an old leather chair

Rest my elbows on the marble 

And admire the beauty