Land of plenty
Land of plenty My mum was a feeder Showing her love through food, Tables were packed solid Everything you could possibly want, and more. "Help yourself, don't be shy" "Have another, it'll only go to waste" My poor aunt, hectored every Sunday Until she had that second helping of dessert. Was it the shortages in the war, and after That made her anxious we weren't full? "Better to have too much than too little" She hated the thought of being found wanting. Often now when I remember her I picture her in the kitchen Stirring a pan of minced meat stew In a thick fug of onions, carrots and gravy, Patiently skimming off the scum Before dropping in the fluffy dumplings. Or rubbing margarine into flour to top a last minute crumble, "Silly to let our apples go to waste". When I was good she let me have the cream off the top of the milk, Mended sadness or pain with a biscuit Celebrated success with a special meal.