Saturday I woke to the smells
Of spinach greens, with bacon bits, onions and peppers
They roused me from my troubled dreams
With that special ingredient
That makes everything ok
My tummy rumbled and yearned
For some pitta bread and fried plantains
My tummy called to me and yelled
"Wake Up! Mama's cooking,
Go get yours before it's gone...
And Big Sis has taken it all!"
I wait in bed, eyes closed,
Recognising the familiar scents
Until the combination
Is right for me to rise to the table
I hear the kettle boiling
The clink of pots, pans and cutlery
Of Mama moving about downstairs
These are the familiar Saturday morning rituals
That marked my childhood
Until now as a grown woman.
Ooh, she's done it now!
That's the smell that will get me up
To claim my share
...Hot dumplings, fresh baked out the oven...Oh Yeah!
I toss and turn onto my stomach
As scents assail my nostrils
Slowly, I slide out from under the covers
A toe...an ankle...a calf...a thigh...my bum...
As I eventually fling off the bedspread
I'm gone to fill my face
As well as my soul
With Mama's cooking creations
And that extra special secret ingredient of hers
The one that with a taste
Can make it all better
Heal hurts like a kiss, a word...
A mother's unconditional love and understanding hugs.
© 2nd September 2006 Written By Angee Edgar All Rights Reserved. Any reproduction or use of content or images from this site is expressly forbidden without permission.