The days when…

I remember a time when all I
could cook was toast.
At the very most.
toast and jam.
Which pleased my elders,
As they flew down memory lane.
Karen Ann bread and jam.
It’s all she ate then,
It’s all she eats now.

I remember a time when
It was you in the kitchen,
Bitching,
because it was never me,
I used to run and flee
when the pans came out
and our dad would shout.

I remember calling you up,
to find out how to bake a potato,
Yep,
a potato.
Because I didn’t know.
And how to make
cup cakes too. . .

At first, she, would make me
Rhubarb crumble to take home,
I certainly never moaned.
Dad fed me
at every opportunity,
Always ringing to see
whether i was free.

Then I realised I missed
real food,
I missed my Dads dinners.
I missed vegetables,
bolognaise,
I missed that the most.
My Dad made one of which to boast.

So I set out to cook
didn’t use a book.
There was always
the chip shop,
If it came out a flop.

I remember a time
I tell my daughter,
as i take fruit strudel
from the oven
turning cheesy scones,
A quick stir of the thick
tomato sauce speckled with basil. . .
I remember a time
when your Grandad let me be,
so I could play,
till the day that I was ready.
I remember a day when I couldn’t cook,
not even with a book.

Karen Hayward ©*2014*

Published by

blossom666

Welcome to my blog! Here you will find different forms of creative writing, lots of swearing, erotic poetry, random thoughts, beautiful imagery, but most of all you will find a version of truth. My truth, this is the way that I see the world. However, all of my work is a form of creative writing, a combination of truth and fiction. I write to express my creativity, not my needs!

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