Saturday I woke to the smells Of spinach greens, with meat bits, onions and peppers They roused me from my troubled dreams Sniff...sniff...mmmm J Mama's cooking…. With that special ingredient That makes everything ok My tummy rumbled and yearned For some bammie 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
"An-gel-a... Breakfast!" "Coming Mum!"
I've 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... Like a mother's unconditional love Like a mother’s understanding hug.
