This poem gives an amazingly cozy feeling to the reader. It is as if the poem invites us from the start, from the very title – Home-baked bread. The title itself already creates the aroma of cooking. But this poem is more than just about great dishes. The author talks about the “ cunning triumphs”. It seems that her triumph is the mastery of a recipe passed down to her from her aunt. It is a goal that she has finally reached. The image of the aunt from Massachusetts at the same time sounds a lot like magic. The “ spices and herbs” from the porcelain jar were all prepared “ past midnight”, “ when the moon was dark”. Was her aunt a witch or perhaps something different? We will never know. But the poem keeps luring us into its trap. Sight, smell, taste – these three senses are completely overtaken. We “ see how the heart rises when the bread opens”, we smell the peach trees and almost taste the peach butter. All of these things, even though they are all very new and strange, attract us in a powerful way. The author just seems so nice and so much like a grandma. The poem invites us to rest and stretch our feet. It’s not just about the kitchen. It seems the whole house if just a picture of tranquility and comport. Getting back to the country, to peace and tranquility, that is what the poem offers us.
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This poem shows the thoughts of a woman. We follow her as she goes to the porch to sit down. Images from daily life start flowing before us. It becomes obvious that the woman in front of us is the one in control of this house. While drying her hair, she thinks about the laundry that is drying and the beans that have to be snapped. The orange sponge cake is already rising in the oven and although “ you” don’t like it, you make it perfect just for you, just enough to make is so delicious that you will lick the plate clean. The same “ you” is referred to in the end of the poem. She will smuggle him in. I am convinced that the “ you” in the poem is her husband, the person she takes care of. This cannot be a child of hers just by the simple fact that children don’t complain about sweets, they are happy to eat any and all of them.
The title of the poem is – the white porch. The whole poem is carried out by a woman who is sitting on the porch, that part is very logical. But why does it have to be a white porch? A house with a white picket fence – a dream family house. I believe that this sense of family is what the color white portrays. Even if the couple doesn’t have kids yet, they might have them in the future. White is also a color that brings clarity and provides the perfect beginning. It is like a clean sheet on which anything can be portrayed.
Everyone has to grow up sooner or later. But it is usually that one moment, that one deed that forces us to make the final turn. It is never easy, but it has to be done, has to be endured. Kids see things in black and white. To them it’s clear. Everything is either good or bad. It is as we grow up that we realize that life is not that simple. Sometimes, in order to do something good, an evil must released. The hero of our poem is a seventeen year old boy, no, a seventeen year old man. This was his rite of passage, this was the moment when he became the man, made the difficult choice between good and bad. The dog moved his heart and his sense of right and wrong awoke. The fact that he stood up for this creatures shows that not long ago he really was a kid. However, the fact that he defended a weaker being is what shows that he is no longer a little boy. Often adults push themselves away from caring for the weaker. Their life is full of problems and there is simply not enough time, not enough time to keep being human. Nevertheless, this young man is ready to do what needs to be done to let the creature go.