POEM - Making a cake.

onebigvoice

Well here it is, there are other ingredients, but its a family secret?
  Enjoy....

  

POEM - Making a cake.

 

I WANT TO MAKE A CAKE, JUST LIKE MY MUM USED TO MAKE

Its called bread pudding, and was made so as not to waste

The cake was so much better when it was 3 days old

As it sucked in  all the ingredients, before it went on the stove.

 

I’ve tried for many years to make it like she could

But even after a 1000 goes, here goes another attempt, and so the story goes

I’ve cut the bread up fine and in the pot it went

And added milk and water, to add to this event

 

I left it for an hour and now I’ve mixed it up

And added sugar, but really not too much

I’ve used mixed fruit that came out of a bag

And added the zest of oranges and lemons to make it sharp

 

My mum had this secret ingredient, I wish I knew what it was

As it transformed the soggy pud, and made it for the god’s

I’ve tried coconut milk, with Vanilla essence to

I’ve even put in Nutmeg and cinnamon, to bring that flavour through  

 

I’ve turned on the gas and turned it down so low,

and want to cook it slowly, not char and burn the top

And after an hour could smell, its really on the go

Well after 2 hours it was time to look, OH what a site in there

Another attempt at bread pudding, you have to be fair

 

The proof of the pudding is in the taste, and I just could not wait

I took it out the oven and put it on the plate

I cut a slab of bread pudding, the steam and smell came out

I just could not wait to taste it and put it in my mouth

 

WELL, I gave a yelp, you would have thought by now

I’d learned a lesson now, no I didn’t, it was like liquid plastic, and stuck it in my mouth

I tried to cool it by blowing very hard, but it seem to make it stick and go hard.

When I stopped jumping and had singed all my taste buds raw

I decided to cut another and put it in the draw.                   

 

I made a cup of tea, to drink when I have another bit

And gave it 10 minutes, to see if it would chill

I can’t believe I did that, my tongue was pretty sore

and then I go and do it, just like the same before

 

The moral of the story, is be patient, when its done its done

And try to remember what you have just gone and done

Although there was no secret ingredient, or not that I could see

That cake always tasted better when its was made by my Dear, MUM.

 

 

To the best mum a child could have, and have grown to become a man.

I still can’t make it like you.  AND still can’t wait for it to cool.

 

Dave.

30/03/2023.

   

Sandy_123

Brill  I only said recently, why did my mom not learn me to bake? After another attempt at a failed cake