Description
In the kitchen’s quiet light,
Bananas rest, a humble sight,
On wooden table, worn and old,
Their yellow skins, a story told.
A glass nearby with one half gone,
Reminds of mornings, early dawn,
When mother’s hands would gently peel,
A simple joy, a cherished meal.
The fruit, both ripe and green, does lie,
A testament to days gone by,
When laughter filled the space around,
And love in every nook was found.
Each banana, a memory sweet,
Of family gathered, lives complete,
From playful bites to meals prepared,
In every piece, a moment shared.
On that table, time stands still,
In a home with warmth to fill,
Bananas, simple as they seem,
Hold fragments of a timeless dream.