Breadman’s Daughter 204 Stories and Poems

mmWritten by

The Second and Last Kiss and the smell of Old Spice.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 882

The second kiss.  Does anyone even remember?  We don’t write love songs about the Numero Duo.  No passionate odes.  Or lyrical poems.  Tragic melodramas.  Nothing much...

Read More

mmWritten by

The First and Last Kiss and the Smell of Second Debut.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 734

I love kisses.  All kinds.  The sweet little girl smooches.  The best friend kiss and tell.  The back seat make-out medley.  The peck on the cheek.  The gentle ones blown...

Read More

mmWritten by

Take me out to the Ballgame.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 800

I can feel it.  Spring is definitely in the air.  But even better, summer is just around the corner.  And with that notion comes all the paraphernalia of summer.  Lighter...

Read More

mmWritten by

Cut from the Same Cloth.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 871

I love fabric. Everything about it. The look. The feel. The smell.  Nothing puts me in a bright-hearted mood like walking the labyrinth aisles of a fabric store. There’s just...

Read More

mmWritten by

Spring Traditions, New Shoes and the Easter Bunny.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 858

I love shoes.  There’s nothing like a new pair to hearten the soul. And the soles.  Snazzy sneakers for Saturday morning strolls with the dogs.  Dependable running shoes for...

Read More

mmWritten by

Brown Rice, First Love and You are all Sanpaku.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 1187

I like brown rice.  But I didn’t always.  It wasn’t exactly an everyday staple in our family when I was growing up.  We mostly ate other starches like potatoes and...

Read More

mmWritten by

There’s Nothing Like the Smell of Coffee in the Morning.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 726

I’m a morning person. I get up early while my family remains nestled all snug in their warm comfy beds. This does not mean they are sleepyheads. Or lazybones. It’s just that...

Read More

mmWritten by

Dog Poop and the Fine Art of Raking.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 885

I like my garden.  And I like to hang out in it.  I like all the flowers and trees. The blueberry bushes, mauve lilacs and sundry shrubs with no names.  The bird houses...

Read More

mmWritten by

A Mother’s Prayer for Peace.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 959

Dear God, It’s the middle of the night, And I cannot sleep. The rain is pounding on the roof And the wind is howling outside my window. But I am safe and warm, Comforted by my...

Read More

mmWritten by

Insomnia and the Power of One.

Breadman's Daughter| Views: 765

I like to give.  I also like to receive.  But giving just feels so much better.  You get that warm and fuzzy feeling.  All gooey inside like a hot fudge sundae.  And...

Read More