The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece.
waves cake strays strand churning spot buzz colors sudden flow early stirring
D'verse Poets has an Open Night too.
Time Machine.
I
The Kenwood—it was hers.
It shudders and buzzes
As it churns the thick mixture.
Given the chance
It would walk off the bench.
Did once.
It has a fruitcake mixture in it.
Granny’s recipe, by inheritance,
Mrs Kiers’ recipe, by attribution.
Butter, sugar, eggs, flour,
Spices, strands of peel,
Lots of fruit.
No brandy, she was Methodist.
Finally, too much for the machine,
I take over the stirring.
The mixture flops, not flows
(fruitcake mix does not flow)
Into the paper lined tin,
And into the oven.
Then comes the aroma…
◊
II
The aroma coming from the oven
Is a time machine—
Suddenly the mind strays
To earlier days—
To memories that come
In the waves and colours
Of a special spot,
A kitchen in my childhood:
Her work-worn hands,
Her face lined by life,
Her practical frocks and aprons,
The patterned lino floor
Of the kitchen where fruitcakes
Just magically appeared
From her old gas oven.
Same recipe.
Same Kenwood.
◊
Just beautiful. For some reason, the lino floor in particular evoked the whole scene. Very lovely. I can smell the cake and the childhood from here. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYou created magic out of those words evoking a lovely memory.
ReplyDeleteI could smell the whiffs of nolstagia in this one! Loved it! 💛
ReplyDeleteI have some very similar memories! (Though it is a long time now since I myself made a fruit cake.) My mum's kitchen in Launceston; my Nan'as in Spreyton ... and eventually my own in Melbourne.Thanks for bringing it all back to me.
ReplyDelete