Egg

I took up experimenting with creative art several years ago, this is a picture I painted of an egg - cosmic, pieced together, complex. Kind of me in a way - mid-life onwards, speaking. Here's a poem I wrote about Eggs, standing in the kitchen of our old house, about 10 years old, feeling very special and privileged, that I had now learned the Secret of How to Fry an Egg Properly.

My Dad taught me,
Some Things.
One of them
was how to 
Fry an Egg.
The trick is to
flick the oil.
Onto the yolk. 
Just a little bit.
Not too much.
So an opaque
dome forms.
The wondrous yolk.
Stays soft and
runny inside.
They are the
Best Eggs.

K M Pearce
Nurturing the Roots