Everyday Poetry

The Victoria sponge has become my "signature bake" - produced so often over the years to generous praise,  that it has become my go-to cake, or dessert.  When I was green I followed strict rules Drummed into me at school: First cream the fat and sugar until pale and light Whisk the eggs, adding with the flour a little at a time. It worked, so I bent willingly to the rules. Now I'm grey, with less time and patience,  With more experience and cake under my belt,  I follow Mary Berry, put it all in together, Let the mixer produce the magic. It works, and I'm happy to embrace the chaos.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

I've previously written a piece for the village newsletter about the colony of rooks at the edge of Uley, so today when I walked past it on the way back from posting a letter,  I thought I should turn it into a poem.  On the corner, at the edge of the village, Where the road begins its weary climb,  A sortie of raucous rooks  Abandon their constant mission To rid their sky of buzzards, Wheeling back to decades old nestsites Swaying safe at the top of the bare beech trees.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved