Shielded In Love

I don’t have asbestos fingers and my blisters come from the garden Toiling the soil and growing fine ingredients for such gourmet cuisine Like ‘throw it all in the one pan dishes’ and crystal ball cooking galore Never gave you adequate thank you’s and now you are about to retire Maybe you need to rest on the kitchen shelf overseeing my efforts To refuse any kind of recipe which some say is a blue print for gruel Like an oracle you would pretend you don’t know what is in stock A forgotten hero in my attempts to feed hungry mouths and rebellion Mashed gherkins with ice cream Liquorice flan flamed with lemons Baked beans with ancient jelly tots Mouldy cheese on renegade tart I asked my kids to brainstorm on contributions for poetic accolade Although they prefer fast food take aways and microwave delight But alternative input is as welcome as sea weed and porcupine pie ‘A potholder’ they smirk ‘you don’t even smoke that stuff’ although ‘We don’t know what you’re up to at the allotment in your spare time’ And they caught me preparing food at full moon on a crackling bonfire Circling the pot on a turbo charged broomstick seven times in a row French fries a la midnight Frog legs made from soy Blanched in octopus ink Lunar asparagus on thistles Earthworms on heavenly fire I have darned you so often that ‘double darn’ does not give justice Although the holes in the oven gloves were the best part in the fabric Showing off the labour of genuine love and Agape’s heated caress Now is the time for you to join your and my friends in the allotment Hang loose in the apricot arbor next to tea cups and ‘holy’ kettles On what we call the tea tree in the memorial shadow of passion The imprints on your surface have faded are sun bleached and faint Underneath though still resides the embrace of many sizzling years But this ode is the least I can do to repay my gratitude and esteem Too potty overwhelmingly nostalgic kind of can’t let go of the past Yesterday’s man on a mission to call on chaotic stellar confusion Yet while I admit that star fish conger eel and scyphosoa mousse May not have been my best concoction when feeding my children I never got bored to tease out the ‘best’ in me with my cherished mitts The only mystery that remains is that I still do not know which one of you Little helpers goes on the right hand and Which one is left and is therefore correct 09th May 2020