Tea-time, it was, the day that she came.
Afterwards, our family would never be the same.
Eccentric, wise and beautiful, she was, too.
Before she came to live with us, our life was a zoo.
She unpacked her books and herbal instructions.
She set up a little lab in the kitchen without any directions.
Fairly soon, she was brewing up a great smelling dinner
and soon it was plain to see, we’d be getting no thinner.
A marvelous cook she was, without any bragging.
We helped her as needed without anyone asking.
She was old, we kids knew it, “Why she must be around thirty!”
She cooked until every pot in the kitchen was dirty.
As soon as she was done, there was this heavenly smell.
We didn’t know what it was, but it was going to be good, we could tell.
She placed the meal onto our large dining room table.
The eating that night was like something out of a fable.
We all pitched in and helped her to clean up the mess.
Then we were shooed off to bed, as Dad helped her to undress.
Why they felt it necessary to clean her up, too, we didn’t really know.
Maybe afterwards, they were going to go out for a show.
We shrugged off all of those nagging little questions
and went off to bed, due to our father’s suggestions.
A few months later, we were told she would be staying for good.
We were gaining a great cook and she had learned motherhood.
The wedding was wonderful. The ceremony was great.
All we wanted was more of her cooking we could partake.
Our father was happy. There were no more sad looks or frowns.
We noticed, however, he never let her stay long in her gowns.
We chalked it up to strangeness of adults and their funny little habits.
We were shooed out of the house, a lot, to go find some pheasants or rabbits.
Whatever their reasons, whatever their rhyme,
we were now happy and laughing all of the time.

Copyright July 27, 2002
Copyright.SilverCelticMoon (C. Sullivan)