“Pearl, Pearl, Pearl, come let us see our girl.
Are you still our valentine? Do you still look so divine?
Come and let us see our darlin’ Pearl.”
Pearls are often compared to holy things.
Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs sang about their rivalry over a mutual interest in a country girl named Pearl. Such a nice name, a bit old fashioned, somewhat Asian.
[ PS:Huh-oh, just found this toy, grooveshark lite. A simple player so you can get hip to some pulsing Pearl ]
An Aunt named Pearl was famed for her cooking ability, especially with pot-roast. In her home for her funeral there was food galore, brought in by well-wishers and by the family gathered together to mourn the loss of a dear sweet Auntie.
Food galore, but not the luscious cooking of Aunt Pearl… until… (zoot alors!) an idea! Dear Aunt Pearl was aged but died suddenly, and Hmm… looking in the fridge I found a few containers of leftovers. In the rush of the hospital and bereavement plans, no one had considered the first thing everyone thinks about Aunt Pearl, “What’s in the fridge?”
Precious leftover cooking of Aunt Pearl. Should I share it? Who gets it? There was even some pot-roast! The temptation to hoard the booty laid itself down hard.
In case Aunt Pearl was watching me from her cloud I knew I should share, so I called my fellow mourners into the kitchen and disclosed the precedings that had lead up to the voila and the last of the precious home cooking of Aunt Pearl.
Dear, precious Pearl and her blessed ability to turn food into love.
We each shared small tastes of the last home cooking of Aunt Pearl. Tales of her long-gone meals praised our departed loved one.
She nailed it one last time. Mmm-Mmm Good!
– we’re still thinking about you, Aunt Pearl!
