The Best Intentions

Snapping beans, the summer pastime Filling Mason jars With cornfield or half runners Filling a crock with layers Of beans and corn, canning salt For pickled beans and corn That would make my mouth water Peeling ripe red tomatoes That I called maters Cutting them in wedges Placing them in Mason jars Adding a touch of salt Sealing the lids and cooking In a liquid water bath For enough time to be sure Those maters were preserved For the winter weather Chili, soup or spaghetti Dicing cucumbers Mixing them with vinegar And all the spices, garlic Everything that makes the best Pickles ever tasted They seem such a blessing When the snowflakes hover Near the windows, dusting The entire mountain With reflections of the season As the harvest hands over its treasures Beans, corn, maters and so much more The wise worker from the fields Leaves the front porch each day With scrapes of bean strings, peelings And excess husks so the pigs Will be as blessed as the rest of us Granny showed me how to can She gave me her instructions With a hug and a grin Hoping to remind me to always Blend a bit of love Into everything I preserved From garden to porch From porch to jar From jar to dish Where the love is mixed in So that everyone who samples A dish from my kitchen Knows that I have given My very best intentions!